


If I Should Fall

by TrishaCollins



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Crowe and Cor really adore each other but they're sometimes bad at showing it, Dad!Cor, Gen, Parenthood is rough, Royal Duties AKA Covering the King's Ass and preventing his divorce, canon character death (minor)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-07 03:20:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18402053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: The duties of a king's retainer is to make certain that the king is never in danger. Cor never thought that raising a child for the crown would be included.





	1. Chapter 1

In the end, it came down to timing. The letter had been received two days after Noctis mad his shrieking way into the world. Aulea, beautiful and gentle woman that she was would not accept Regis's bastard into the Citadel with her son only two days old.

But Regis could not more abandon the girl child he had only just learned of - conceived, if her age was an indication, during the short trip they had taken while Regis mourned his father - than he could his newborn son.

By the time they made it to the village for the girl and her mother, the woman was dead and the step-father all too happy to accept the payment and leave the girl in their care.

She was all of four, with sleepy eyes and a pouty lower lip that reminded him easily of Regis. She was fierce and fought like a demon when they had come to her, clutching her little bag of possessions like it might at any moment be snatched.

She looked like her father. She looked Lucian. She looked like a Caelum, sharp feature and sharper eyes. 

"I can talk to Laelia." Clarus murmured to him. "But it will be noticeable."

The girl was asleep, blanket wrapped tightly around her. Still suspicious of them, even asleep.

"Because everyone knows you haven't left the city in the past five years. Plus, Laelia would have skinned you." He poked at the fire, still not sure how Regis intended to have his cake and eat it too. 

The kid was a kid. A little girl. A scandal waiting to happen, even if Aulea was currently resisting it with all her might.

"No." Clarus answered slowly. "I haven't left the city in the last five years.”

There was a beat of silence. He glanced over at the child, trying to parse what Clarus was telling him.

“I just said that.” He answered, after a long enough gap of silence. 

Clarus sighed, rubbing his face. “You, however.”

He stared at the man, convinced he had misheard him. “What?”

“You’ve left the city, more than once. You’ve been through that town…how many times? At least a dozen. You were there when Regis got her on her mother.”

He gaped. “Are you….are you being serious? Claim her as my own?” 

“Regis suggested it.” Clarus admitted. “But I think it is a good idea. Crowe Leonis, has a nice ring to it?”

“You’re insane. I never met her mother! I certainly didn’t fuck her. Claim his bastard….I’m active in the field. The reason I have been through that town so many times is that it’s a port where I go into enemy territory as a spy. I can’t raise a child!” 

“You wouldn’t have to.” Clarus tempered. “It would just be the story. After all, who better to look after your little girl when you’re afield than your best friends?” 

He rubbed his face with his hands, dropping the stick into the fire.

One of the jobs of the entourage was making certain that nothing came back to bite the King. He would gladly lay down his life for the king, but raise his bastard as his own? He had been quite content that his family name die with him. He was the Marshal of the Kingsguard, for six’s sake. He had no idea what to do with a four-year-old. “We could leave her with Cid?” He suggested, muffled by his hands. “He’s got that granddaughter.”

Clarus sighed. “Too far, Regis wants to see her. To know she’s safe within the walls. Plus…”

He groaned. “No, don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. This is a stupid plan.” 

 

“You do well with kids.” Clarus said, diplomatic. 

“I can handle yours. That doesn’t mean I want one in my home!” 

 

Clarus actually laughed at him. “All that empty space? You could use some livening up.”

“This isn’t livening up. This is a lie. She hates me. She bit me earlier.”

“I still have teeth marks in my leg from the other night when Gladdy wanted to play Behemoth.” Clarus said fondly.

He dropped his hands, staring at his best friend – his brother in all but the blood they did not share – convinced the man had gone insane. 

“Point is, little kids. She’s scared. She’ll come around. Give her a little bit of time. You saw how that ratfaced step-father was rushing her out the door, making sure she didn’t palm the good silver. She’s probably not been taught trust.” Clarus said patiently. 

“Clarus, I love you, I would die for you. But lying to children does not encourage them to trust you. On a good day I say as few words as possible. I am not a suitable guardian for a half Caelum.” 

“Who’d be better?” Clarus countered.

He opened his mouth, ready to spit Regis’ name out like an attack, but closed it without saying anything. Outside of the three of them, only Aulea knew that the girl existed. There were many worse things that being a royal bastard could earn a child. He looked at the girl again, chewing on his lip. 

“She’s a kid. We’ll do most of the heavy lifting. You just have to return to Insomnia, register her as yours and make some token effort at keeping her alive.” Clarus said, motioning to the child. “Feed her, clothe her, and make sure she goes to school. When you’re in the field she stays with me, Gladdy and her will be best buds before you can say “Hot chocobo.””

“Regis is….” A fool, but who was more the fool? Gods above, what was he thinking even entertaining the idea in his mind. 

The girl stirred in her sleep with a whimper, clutching the blanket and her little bag closer to her chest. 

Involuntarily, his heart lurched for her. Newly bereft of everything she knew. Surrounded by strangers who had almost dragged her from the only home she had. Newly motherless. She had nothing. 

She was the child of his king, the granddaughter of his first king, even if she might never wear the royal name. 

Shit. 

“This isn’t going to work.” He muttered, rubbing his face. 

“Give it a chance.” Clarus coaxed. 

“I can’t unclaim her once I do. I know I have no wife, and no family of merit to shame. But if this is done it cannot be simply undone if Regis decides he does wish to claim.” He said, unhappy, but accepting that this was to be his fate. 

“I know. He knows.” Clarus looked at the little girl. “She won’t know any different. We won’t take another parent from her.” 

He locked his jaw, but finally gave a shallow nod of acceptance.


	2. Chapter 2

“Don’t run.” He called absently. 

Crowe paused halfway up the steps, stuffed chocobo clutched to her chest, suspicious eyes falling on him for a moment before she walked very carefully up the steps. 

He watched her go, wondering if the girl would ever warm to him at all. Two weeks in and he felt like he’d heard her say a dozen words, and that was all.

He fed her, made sure she bathed – six knew he had no idea how to help with that, and he was about to beg Laelia to come over and make certain the child was washing herself properly. It felt entirely improper to loom too greatly, and it wasn’t like Crowe would let him.

The child very well knew how locks worked, and was entirely disinterested in his help. 

Paternity leave was boring. He wasn’t able to visit the citadel, no one was quite ready to test Aulea’s temper by taking the little girl inside what the woman had sketched out as her territory, Clarus stopped by whenever he was able but with both himself and the King unable to perform their normal duties the shield was rather strapped for time.

“Do you do anything?” A quiet, bored voice asked behind him.

He jumped, whirling to face her. 

Crowe was staring at him intently. “You just stay inside all day. There isn’t anything fun.” 

He blinked, tilting his head. “What do you want to do?”

Crowe considered, chewing on her lip. “There’s lots of food.”

He nodded. He knew Crowe had been peering in his cupboards day by day, clearly checking on his stores. 

“So no hunting shells.” 

“You went shellfish hunting?” He asked, mildly baffled. It was difficult work, he knew from traveling with Regis. Often left the fisherman with scraped knuckles and raw legs if they went too far out on the tide pools. That explained some of the odd scars Crowe had on her arms and legs. 

Crowe nodded. “I gots little hands and could pry em good.” She squinted up at him, chewing on her lip. It seemed a compulsion.

He eased down to his knee, thinking of the girl like Gladio, who never liked to be towered over. “Well. What do you do for fun?” 

She considered for a moment. “There’s a city.” 

“Yes. Insomnia. Would you like to go see it?” 

Another long pause, already he had gotten more words out of her for this conversation than he had the entire time she had been here combined.

The child nodded, then, surprisingly, offered him her hand.

He smiled at her tentatively, closing his fingers around hers. “Very well. We can explore. I can show you where I work – when I am not settling little girls in my household.”

“I don’t need no settling.” Crowe told him seriously. “I gots a bed.” 

He chuckled. “You do. But there is more to living in a place than having a bed.” She looked like she doubted him, but he would try to convince her. “Come now, grab your coat. It might rain.”

She nodded, pulling her hand away and walking very pointedly up the stairs to her room, glancing back over her shoulder several times to make sure he saw her.

Little brat. Something very much like fondness bloomed in his chest. He could get used to that. 

*~*

She liked the training grounds and spent several hours with him watching the Glaive train, clutching at him whenever anyone looked like they might approach them.

“Think you could do that?” He asked her, settling a fond hand on her little head.

She watched one of the newer recruits stumble out of his warp, rolling across the dirt. “Fall?”

He snorted, minding that one to use later. “Well, the bit that comes before the falling.”

She watched, lips pressed. “Uh huh.”

“Leonis. I heard you were on leave.” Dratous called, wandering over. “Come to spy on my recruits?”

He shrugged a shoulder, shifting his hand to cover Crowe’s shoulder, moving her lightly closer.

She responded by shooting Dratous one of her glares and twisting her hand in his shirt. 

“Just showing the child the sights.”

Dratous was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes, which hadn’t moved from the little girl at his side. “Thought they would cover such things in Crownsguard training.”

He rolled his eyes. “We were leaving.” 

Crowe made a low noise of protest, but didn’t resist him turning her back towards the car. 

“A pity. Perhaps you could have learned something.” Dratous called at his back.

He loathed the man, ten years his senior and experienced – or so the man thought. He was careful not to show it near Regis, but Dratous thought he was better than everyone. Including the young king. 

Crowe seemed to sense that something was about, somehow managing to walk between his feet as they made their way back to the car, not letting go of him until he slid her into the passenger seat. “Keep clear of him.”

Crowe nodded quietly, picking up her plush from the floor. “Next?”

“More demanding than his majesty. Put your belt on, cub. We’ll find something that will entertain you.”

Crowe obeyed, giving him a tiny smile. 

*~*

She was happier after that – though she still occasionally ran up and down the stairs when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. Her room was beginning to appear that someone lived there by the time he was ready to go back to work. She had odd taste in art – seascapes were to be entirely banned from the house, save for a small framed watercolor that never left her bedside – but she clearly had a taste in play in the choices she made.

Even if he wasn’t going to pretend to understand the mind of a little girl. 

Regis was sitting in his office when he came in, Crowe was walking calmly next to him, one hand clutched in his.

The girl refused to be carried. Wherever they went the most he could manage was the small hand in his. 

She could do impressive things, had an uncanny way of sticking to him in a crowd, but she was stubborn and independent. 

He could almost let himself believe that she was his own child. 

Regis perked up as they came through the door, peering at the little girl. “Cor.” 

Crowe paused, scanning the office, and then tossed a look at him. She knew Clarus – hadn’t seemed to settle on if she liked him or not, but he had been there when they’d taken her away. Regis, though, was an unknown.

“This is King Regis.” He introduced. 

Crowe swung back around, staring at Regis, nose screwing up. “No crown.”

Regis chuckled. “No, I don’t tend to wear it out of council meetings where they force it on my head.”

“If I had a crown, I’d wear it always.” Crowe informed him seriously. 

“Is that so?” Regis was smiling, staring at the little girl with hungry eyes. Clarus had brought him pictures, but it surely wouldn’t compare to the real child. 

“This is my office.” He told the girl. “If I’m at work, this where I will be. I work with Clarus and King Regis.”

Crowe nodded, still watching Regis, clearly not certain yet on if she should trust him or not. “Where will I sit?”

“Well, we should get you a desk, hm?” Regis asked softly. “A little one by the window, perhaps?”

He shot Regis a look when Crowe wasn’t looking, giving her hand a squeeze. “We’ll think about it. She starts schooling soon.” 

Crowe made a face.

Regis chuckled again. “I do not much like school either. But you must attend.”

“I’m going to be Crownsguard.” She informed Regis solemnly. “Like my dad is.”

His heart lurched in his chest, and he found himself unexpectedly gaping at the girl and then at his king.

If Regis’ smile held a little more pain than it should, he was careful not to show it. “I think that is a very fine goal. Your father is my right hand man, perhaps one day you will be the same for prince Noctis.”

“No. I’m going to serve a princess.” Crowe declared firmly. 

Regis smiled, but it was a sad one this time. “I should let your father show you around the Citadel. I was glad to meet you, Crowe.”

“We curtsy to the king.” He told the child gently, she looked at him, and managed some sort of squat that wasn’t really a curtsy. “And say ‘good afternoon’.”

“You’re not.” She complained. 

Regis laughed. “Leave her be, Cor. It’s fine.” He gave a small bow to the child, and was gone before he could say anything more.

Crowe craned her neck to look at him. “He’s weird.” 

He sighed deeply. “Let’s not say that to his face, hm?” 

She considered that for a moment, poking her tongue out. “K. You gots colors?” 

“Let’s see what I do have, shall we?”


	3. Chapter 3

He was Midway through correcting the shitty recruit's stance when he heard the now familiar rapid patter of bare feet on the stairs.

"Crowe!" He called, taking a breath for the rest of the command.

“‘don’t run on the stairs.'" She mimicked in a passable imitation of his growl, appearing on the balcony. "What is it with you and stairs?"

He caught the twitch of faces as he turned to look at the girl. Six months had eroded whatever shyness she had with him, and as she found her footing she had gotten more sarcastic. Clarus thought it was hilarious.

He had to admit it was his preference. "Head injuries are messy. Don't want to deal with them this early."

Crowe hopped up, balancing on the balls of her feet. Damn Caelum blood that gave them such a head for heights. "I haven't fallen."

She was newly five, an unholy terror when the tutors were involved, and as wild as anyone could have expected. She was barefooted, hair uncombed purely out of spite.

He loved her a little more every day.

"That doesn't mean you can't." They had no idea if she could warp yet, the situation hadn't come up.

The little girl rolled her eyes. "Stop laughing, Asher. Dad'll make you run another lap."

He turned, glaring at the recruit who was trying to clear his face. "pair up. First blood gets to go home."

That excited them, lazy bastards. 

He moved to the stairs that led to Crowe's favorite perch. "Where's your tutor?"

Crowe shrugged, chin on her hands, watching intently. 

"Crowe...."

"She was hungry." Crowe answered, lifting her shoulders in another shrug. 

He sighed. "You can't run off while I am gone."

"I'll just find Clarus." She said, tone flat.

Still mad at him.

"Missions are a part of my job." He told her gently.

She shrugged again, glaring down at his recruits. 

He sighed. It wasn't like he wanted to leave her. There just wasn't really a choice. Regis didn't trust anyone else to do his job. "I'll bring you back something. Stickers?" She liked stickers.

She rocked on her feet, bare inch of rail beneath her. "I don't care."

He touched her shoulder. "I'll be fine. Not my first time in the field."

"Who's gonna make sure Asher behaves?" She asked, still frowning at his recruits.

"Clarus, probably. If you want you can glare at him from up here while Clarus teaches. But you like Gladio. So I'm sure the pair of you will have fun." He smiled gently, imagining both kids glaring down at his recruits while Clarus tried to maintain control of them. Gladio had taken an immediate liking to Crowe and tended to mimic whatever the older girl did, so it was likely. 

It was a nice thought. For a five year old she had an impressive scowl. It just made the ruse stronger. Regis was a happy person, and he … Well… wasn't. Crowe's personality was a tiny force of nature. People with doubts had only to meet her. 

Bad for tutors, good for the lie that she was his kid.

He wasn't sure what would happen when Auela finally relaxed enough to let the child in the Citadel.

“How long are you gonna go?” Crowe asked.

“A few weeks. It’s hard to set up exact timetables.” He couldn’t even really offer to call her. He would be under cover, no uniforms, everything he needed packed light or stashed. He couldn’t even tell her where they were going. She was flat enough to tell anyone who asked. “But I’ll be back.” 

She nodded, chewing on a strand of her hair, eyes scanning the recruits as they tried to land a hit. “He’s doing bad today.”

He glanced down. “Which one?”

“Lazy.” She pointed. 

He watched the cadet, who was moving a bit sluggishly compared to his normal. Lazarus, new from Dusce. If one of them got sick the whole squad would be down. “Lazarus. Break away and come here.”

There was some grumbling, but Lazarus came to join him, breathing a bit hard and a bit brighter eyed than he should be.

“Fever?” He demanded.

Lazarus shrugged. “Not sure, sir.”

“Get yourself to medical before you infect the entire squad.” He jerked his head up the stairs. “And don’t let me catch you back down here until a medic clears you.”

Lazarus looked surprised, glancing at Crowe curiously. “Yes sir.”

Crowe nodded. “Ipsy too. But her form is always terrible. She leads with her chest.”

His own words parroted back at him. He smiled softly, breaking down the squad with her for the next hour – releasing Luxa when she scored first blood and sending the rest to run laps. 

Crowe seemed interested, though she remained perched like a child shaped bird on the rail until he released them for the day, hand sliding into his with a sigh. 

He gave it a squeeze, smiling down at the girl. “You have a better eye than some of the other trainers.”

She smiled a bit, though it dropped quickly. “I listen.”

“I’m going to miss you.” He told her, gentle, the words springing from his mouth without thought.

She looked surprised, and then vaguely pleased, leaning into his hip. “Miss you too.”

*~*

If Crowe was perfectly honest - and she wasn't, usually, because lying took less work and less personal risk - she liked living with Cor.

She had a bed, her own room. Even though it was winter it stayed warm. He never tried to sell her stuff or fleece her for Gil. He didn't even seem to notice that she had the spare Gil coins stuffed away, and she probably had almost two hundred between bills and coins she found around the Citadel. There was always food in the house. It was a big house, but it was only the two of them and sometimes the lady who cleaned.

It was an easy place to like living, with easy people to like. She just didn't understand - if Cor was her father and an important person, why had she spent most of her life scraping by?

He had enough money for a dozen kids. He was quiet and sort of reserved - worried more about running than her beating up the clothes he bought her. New clothes, even, nice clothes. Clothes she hadn't even seen in shops back home. He didn't drink except when Clarus or King Regis came. And they didn't bark orders at her, or throw things at her.

She was pretty sure she was getting worse at dodging. Cor didn't even care when she mouthed off, or tell her to lift things when nobody was looking while he made a scene.

Nothing made sense here.

If there was one thing she did understand, it was the fact that some people didn't want to see her. She obligingly stayed out if the Queen's way, even when she was in Cor's office. She'd only seen the prince as a tiny bundle of blankets that cried.

The queen didn't like her. It was easy to mind that and stay out if the way.

Clarus liked her, the king almost always spoke quietly to her, and Clarus had a wife who didn't mind if Crowe asked weird questions or taught Gladio to climb trees and where to check for frogs around ponds.

Cor made her turn the frogs loose, but she wanted to keep her skills sharp.

It was almost like when her mother was well again, before the baby had come and sapped her life away. Things felt safe, cozy almost. Like she could breathe again and stop listening in the night for every sound.

Of course Cor had to ruin it by leaving. Because that was his job - leaving. Sneaking. She didn't know there was a job to sneak around for the king. But maybe if she got good at it she could go with Cor.

"Gil for your thoughts." Laelia said behind her, finishing with her hair.

She held out her hand and the woman laughed before dropping a Gil coin in her palm. "When is Cor going to come back?"

"Did he give you a date?" Laelia asked, thoughtful.

She shook her head. Cor never dealt with absolutes. Cor only gave her maybes. She liked it, but she hated it too. She never felt like she knew what he was going to do next.

"I am sure he will be back soon, then. He never stays gone for long." Laelia turned her around to face the mirror. "Do you like it?"

She nodded, because she did like Laelia playing with her hair, even if the double crown braid looked silly and she didn't think it would stay up for long. Laelia liked to dress her and do her hair, and she let her mostly. Even if she insisted she had to wear pants and not the dresses the woman wanted.

Dresses were a good way for boys to get ideas and she had never tolerated them.

She had worn a dress to her mother's funeral. A borrowed dress that had been too big and too heavy and made her chest feel tight under the itchy fabric.

Nobody ever made Cor wear dresses. 

She chewed her lip. If Cor was on a mission for the king, then the king would know when he would get back. Except...except the king hadn't been around to see Clarus because Cor wasn't there. She would have to find a way to see him. 

She would have to try very hard and be very sneaky, but that would prove to Cor that she was better than the trainees - which he always said when they were being whiney brats, but she thought if she could prove it that he would be even happier.

Decided, she let Laelia pick out her outfit. She was his daughter. If he could be sneaky and find out information for the king, she could be sneaky and find out information from the king.


	4. Chapter 4

It took her exactly five days – five days in which Cor had not returned, to add to the thirteen he had already been gone, she was keeping track – to figure out where Regis’ office was. 

She had Gladio to thank for that, because Gladio had begged and begged to go see Clarus, and Clarus was in Regis’ office, talking to the king and doing ‘shield stuff’ as Regis called it.

The king had looked happy to see them – but he always seemed sort of happy to see them. Cor was his friend, and Clarus too. Clarus had told her to call him ‘uncle’, even though she knew he and Cor weren’t really brothers. She hadn’t yet, but the offer was there and she might eventually. She almost asked just then, Laelia and Clarus were people Cor told her were safe, and they hadn’t done anything to disprove what her father had told her. But there were guards outside the office, and some of them were wearing the same sigil that the man Cor told her was dangerous had worn, so she kept her mouth shut.

Cor was doing sneaky work, and that meant it had to be a secret. That was why he couldn’t tell her where he was going or what he was doing. Sneaky work for the king was super important. 

She had to do her best to help Cor.

Plan: Talk To the King too another four days to execute. Which meant that Cor had been gone almost a month already. Surely the king knew where he was and if he was safe. She explored the castle as much as she could without getting caught by the guards, ignoring her tutors attempts to keep her on task, and finally settled on the outside of the citadel being the safest way to get to him without anyone – especially the queen – seeing her.

Then it took almost another day to climb, and she’d gotten lucky because she’d found a window open where she could get out and only have to climb a few stories. 

She let the shuddery light that had always got her out of trouble before keep her safe, perching on the ledge to peek into King Regis’ office.

He spent most of the day in meetings, with other people she didn’t want to tell anything. So she had to wait, patiently – which was hard, she hated waiting – until everyone had left and the king was alone.

She had brought her lunch and snacks shoved in a backpack, and ate quietly while she waited, tucked out of sight so far above the city that she could see everything. The wall, the humming dome of the shield. 

Everything. It was really pretty from up here. She thought if she was on the other side she could see Cor’s house. 

It was a nice place, Lucis. Different. But nice. Sometimes the city felt like it was too big and it was going to gobble her up, but it was nice from way up here, where nobody could see her and she could see everyone.

She checked on the king again only to find him alone. 

She waited another few miniutes and then knocked gently on the window – hopefully quiet enough that the guards outside wouldn’t hear.

He made a funny face, but he came to the window quickly, flickers of blue light and opened it, reaching out to grab her arm as though she might fall. “Crowe! How did you get out there?”

She looked at the king, then back at her ledge. “I climbed.” She told him seriously, not certain how else she could have gotten to the ledge. 

“You-i.” He made several faces, pulling her inside and covering his face with his hands.

She couldn’t tell if he was crying or laughing. 

“What possessed you to climb the citadel, child?” He asked, finally, face a bit red and eyes a bit teary. “You could have fallen.”

“I never fall.” She responded, a tiny bit offended. Even Cor said she had good balance, and the Citidel had a lot of ledges and stuff that she had used to slither up.

Regis made a choking sound, crouching down. “Crowe. That was very dangerous. They wind could have caught you, or the architecture could have crumbled. You should not have done that.”

She shrugged, Cor would understand. “I needed to ask you something, but Cor said it was sneaky, which means it’s a secret. So I couldn’t ask in front of other people.”

Regis’ face did a funny thing, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking several loud breaths. “If I answer you will you promise never to do that again?”

She considered. “Climb to your office?”

“Yes.”

That was acceptable. “Ok.”

“Very well. What is your question?” Regis sat on the floor, which didn’t strike her as very kingly, but what she knew about kings came from muttered curse words, bar talk and story books, so she wasn’t exactly an expert.

“When is Cor going to get back?” She asked him, crossing her arms.

Regis laughed softly, rubbing his face. “He made contact yesterday. It will take him perhaps another ten days to finish his extraction. You could have asked me publically, child.”

She chewed on her lip. “But if Cor has to be sneaky, then I should too. So it’s fair.”

The king made a sound she thought sounded sad. “Crowe, you can always ask me questions. Never doubt that my door is open to you.”

She nodded, though she didn’t believe him. It was a nice thing to say.

Regis touched her cheek, pads of his fingertips softer than Cor’s. It felt weird. She wasn’t sure she liked it. But she stood passively and let him touch her.

She would draw the line at a hug. Cor could hug her, sometimes, and Gladio could because he was three and pretty much a snotty baby who didn’t know any better, but she wasn’t going to trust anyone else that quick. 

“I am sorry.” The king murmured softly, that sad look on his face.

“For sending Cor away?” She asked.

His lips quirked. “Indeed. I am certain Laelia and Clarus are worried that they lost you. Let us give them a call so that they know where you are.”

“Ok.” She watched him get up and pick up the phone. The conversation was short, he told Clarus where she was, and that he could come get her when he wished. 

“Are you settling well with Cor?” King Regis asked, after he was done with the phone. 

She considered. “I liked it better when he was here. Laelia doesn’t let me watch the practices.” 

Regis hmed, smile warm on his face. He had a nice smile, she decided. He must be a good person if he was Cor’s friend. Cor didn’t seem to have many friends. Just Clarus and Regis and Laelia. But she thought that might be ok. It was more friends than she had – she could only REALLY count Gladio and he was a baby. 

“Are you hungry, Crowe?” Regis asked gently, pulling open a drawer in his desk and revealing a pretty decent snack hiding place.

“King’s hide snacks too?” She asked curiously as she wandered over, admiring what was in there. He had a whole bunch, candy bars, packaged cookies, crisps and fizzy drinks. She’d never seen such a stash. 

“Shh, it will be our secret. Pick whatever you like.” Regis reached out and touched her hair, a little pet like he was fond of her. 

She picked two snacks and a bottle of juice from the drawer, studying him. “You’re nice.” She told him.

“Thank you. I think you are nice as well.” He beamed, some of the sadness leaving his face. “I am very glad to know you.”

She considered that seriously. “Does that mean we’re friends?”

Regis chuckled. “We can be, if you wish. I am good friends with Cor.” 

She thought about it. “We can be friends.” It was an easy thing to decide. 

Regis’ smile was weird and warmer than she had expected, he leaned and gave her a half hug – she decided she should tolerate it and didn’t try to pull away. 

“Do you like to color?” He asked her, thoughtful.

“I have some in Cor’s office.” 

“Well, I think I have some here. We can color until Clarus arrives.”

So they did.

~*~

Cor was damn-you tired. It was the sort of tired that made him swear more, eliminated any buffer on his temper, and made the mixed squad of glaive and guard that was with him a little bit more nervous.

Probably adding to his aura of fuck off was the baby he had cradled against his shoulder. Because like fuck was he going to leave an infant to be done six knew what to in one of Verstael’s horror houses. 

He ached down to his bones, felt like someone had scraped his tendons with a knife – but they were successful and they were almost home. 

“Sir?” Monica asked, keeping her tone even.

He liked Monica, he liked her a lot. She was senior but never complained to have a Marshal so much younger than he should be. Didn’t stop his answer from coming out as a growl. “What?”

“What are you going to do with him once we get to the city?” She indicated the kid, wrapped up tightly in a blanket they had stolen and asleep. 

He really wasn’t sure yet. He had only been sure that he couldn’t leave him. Would Crowe even tolerate an infant?

Shit that was a dangerous thought. He didn’t have time for one kid to be properly socialized, and Crowe was half feral and decent at looking after her own needs. The baby was not, couldn’t even swallow properly without aid and patience. Could sit up with some effort, could hold his head, which made his age even more of a big floating question mark.

Fuck. He really needed to think things through more often. This wasn’t even shit he could blame on Clarus. 

Ifrit’s balls, what had he gotten himself into this time???


	5. Chapter 5

He sent a prayer to whichever of the Six was looking out for him when Clarus pulled up. The baby was hidden under his jacket - not well, but with the fact that his arm was mangled and broken most people had this far assumed it was a sling.

"Grab a shower and a meal and a few hours of sleep. We will debrief at 0700. Assume standard protocols until otherwise informed." He ordered his squad. "Dismissed. Thank you for your service to the crown."

"Sir." Monica saluted Clarus, then fixed him with a stare. "You will let the medics tend to that, Marshal."

It was an order, not a question. He grunted in response.

"What's wrong with him?" Clarus asked, leaning on the roof of the car, every inch of him declaring himself off duty. 

The kids weren't in the back seat.

"Broke his shoulder and collarbone. Too complex to fix in the field even if we set it. He shouldn't be carrying the package on that side of his body."

He rolled his eyes, pulling open the door to Clarus's car and easing himself in. The kids were with him, so he took a moment to appreciate being down.

The 'package' was asleep, anyway. And mostly supported by the sling. The pain was manageable.

"You look like shit." Clarus informed him, getting in the car.

"Thanks for not bringing Crowe, then." He returned, checking on the sleeping baby before leaning his head against the headrest.

"Regis wants to see you."

"Figures he didn't just send you to whisk me home and let me shower." He complained faintly. "Figured what he's doing yet?"

Clarus sighed. "Well, first of all when I suggested you get a family of your own this wasn't what I meant. But figures you would follow orders in the worst way possible."

"Think I am doing ok." He yawned. "Going to sleep until we get there, ok?"

"Fine. Sleep. Don't smother it."

He mumbled something vague in response, adjusting the baby to lay more comfortably on his chest.

The baby gave a little sigh of his own, stretching out. Good kid. Never cried unless he set him down. Crowe was going to murder him in his sleep, thinking of bringing a baby home. But…

He was pretty sure he heard a click from Clarus's phone at some point, but he really did not care right now, he was too tired and too worn out. He had made it back with his team, himself, and the baby more or less intact. 

Which had seemed impossible only a few weeks before. 

He drifted, not really entirely asleep but brain disconnected enough that he wasn’t thinking until Clarus opened the door next to him and helped him out, baby and all.

 

“You got blood on my seat.” Clarus observed, dispassionate. 

 

“It’s not mine.” He said, shifting the infant to a secure hold. Still asleep. Good baby. Easier to talk with Regis if the baby wasn’t screaming his little head off. 

 

Clarus made a face. “Not sure if that’s reassuring or not, what the hell did you people stumble into?”

 

“A nest.” He sighed. “Hang on, I’m not telling this story twice.” 

 

Clarus grumbled, but obligingly swiped his badge at the elevator and hit the floor for Regis’ office. 

 

“How’s Crowe?” He asked, watching the numbers go up above the doors.

 

“Takes after you, somehow. Managed to sneak into Regis’ office after vanishing for a full day. Think your cadets are scared she is going to report back to you.” Clarus grinned. “Taught Gladio to climb trees, so it’s not all trouble.” 

 

“Does she need to report back to me about my cadets?” He asked, concerned. 

 

“Nah. She kept them in line. Not sure if it’s you or her they’re more scared of.” 

 

He snorted. “She’s five.”

 

“Somehow your glare is more and less intimidating coming from someone I could punt into next week. Besides, we know she bites.” Clarus grinned. 

 

He rolled his eyes. “So she behaved?”

 

“After a fashion. Laelia even got some homework out of her after she explained that you have to pass basic to get into the guard. Damned near scared off the tutor assigned to her. Again.” Clarus stepped out of the door, palm flat against it in case the elevator got any ideas. 

 

Or maybe he was just moving that damned slow. 

 

“You let him carry the baby with a broken shoulder?” Regis said, standing up and frowning at the pair of him.

“He’s not carrying it with the broken shoulder.” Clarus defended. “You saw the picture. I wasn’t going to get between him when he’s brooding.” 

 

Regis sighed. “Give me the baby and sit down.” His king lifted the infant gently from his arms, resting him against the royal shoulder. “Honestly, Clarus, you could have at least let him bathe first. Is that blood?”

“Not mine.” He said, steady but moving to the chair. 

Sitting sounded damn nice right now. 

 

“Who bled on you then?” Regis asked dryly, jiggling the baby who was just beginning to realize that someone else was holding him.

 

“He cries.” He mumbled. “If I’m not holding him, he cries.” 

The world spun alarmingly out of focus, twisting around him in loops and colors. 

 

Clarus touched him, sitting him down in the chair. Which was good, because there were too many chairs and they were all jerking around. Earthquake?

 

Clarus was saying something that didn’t make sense, and Regis was casting.

 

His shoulder popped, bone grinding against bone in a way that made the starburst get bigger and his vision to white out. 

 

So maybe some of it was hit blood. He hadn’t really been keeping track. 

 

“When was the last time you ate anything?” Clarus asked, voice worried.

“Please don’t cook.” He managed.

 

Regis laughed, shaking his head. “I think he’ll be fine now. I’ve fixed the worst of it. But please go easy on the arm.” 

 

“Yeah.” He rubbed the heel of his hand against his forehead, grunting. “Thanks for that.”

“’It’s not my blood’.” Clarus grumbled behind him. “So what’s the story?”

 

“MTs. I think. Big things, taller than the ones we saw before. We were almost back in Tenebrea and a whole squad of them dropped out of the sky. Hit Alonze, almost cut him in half. We fought through, eventually, had to use magic. I think they were trying to get him back.” He nodded to the baby in Regis’s arm. “Some sort of prototype, if the notes are anything to go by. Science was never my thing, but Monica was sure of it. Able to use magic.” 

Regis peered at the baby. “Interesting. So. What are we going to do with him?” 

 

He held out his arm. 

 

Clarus snorted. “Man you asked. It’s clear he’s keeping the baby. Sleeper agent or not, Cor can handle him.”

“What will Crowe think?” Regis asked, looking concerned as he handed the infant over. “She has only just arrived.”

He tucked the baby against his chest drowsily. “Well, she’s already a big sister. Might as well see how she takes it?”

Regis paused, blinking at him. “I suppose that makes sense. Somehow, she has gotten a streak of impulsiveness from you.”

He gave the king a puzzled look, head tilting. “Huh?”

“She snuck into my office via the window.” Regis explained. “She was quite proud of herself. I suppose she understood enough of what you were doing to know that she should not tell anyone. But she in turn became convinced that she also could not be seen.”

 

“She warp?” He rocked the baby gently, sitting up.

 

Regis sighed. “Not as far as we can tell. We asked. She said she just needed to go up.”

 

“….shit.” 

 

He was not awake enough to deal with this right now.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowe wanted very badly to run. But she knew Cor would growl if she did and he heard.

Which made Her want to run more, just to hear the familiar and much missed growl. How had she missed Cor's growels? She was sure his reminders meant he cared about her - that he had wanted her and maybe didn't know until her mother had written him when she was dying. 

But Clarus was holding her hand and whole she had to move fast to keep up with him, he would not let her run.

She liked Clarus even if he was a giant, but right now she just wanted him to let her go to where Cor was.

Clarus pushed open the door to King Regis' office and there was Cor, wearing a faded t-shirt and dark jeans, maybe a bit paler than he had been when he left but there and real.

She pulled out of Clarus's grip and flung herself across the room at him. He knelt and took her weight, wrapping his arms around her. She felt a soft pressure on the top of her head - maybe a kiss? And told herself very sternly that she wasn't going to cry. Babies cried. Gladio cried. She was a big girl and nothing was wrong.

"You came back." She whispered, clutching double handfuls of shirt and pressing her forehead against his shoulder - not crying, his shirt was just damp already. Maybe a shower.

"I told you I would, kid." Cor rumbled gently, almost a growl but lower. Low in his chest like a purr. Could people purr like cats? She wasn't sure. But if anyone could it was Cor.

She nodded, feeling very silly but very glad with her face pressed in tight to his damp shirt.

His hand stroked the back of her head. He was holding her tight, maybe nearly as tight as she was holding him. He was being silly too.

"Did you bring me stickers?" She asked into his shirt.

"Sure did. Anywhere I found them I bought a sheet. Found some other things for you too."

She smiled, glad he had been thinking about her.

"There's someone I want you to meet." He continued, just as gentle.

Her heart sank and she let him go. Was he getting married? She didn't want him to get married. Mom had gotten married and Daryl had hated her. "Someone?" She asked, voice quivering a little bit despite her very much not wanting it.

Cor nodded, looking serious. "They're someone who really needs our help."

She swallowed hard, but nodded, tightening her belly.

Cor got up and took a small bundle of blankets from the king and knelt down next to her again, pushing the blankets back to show her the tiny baby. "This is Prompto. He doesn't have a mom or a dad. I would like for us to be his family, if you don't mind."

Her breath whooshed out of her in a gasp and she stepped forward, touching his cheek. "He's so little."

The baby opened his eyes, looking up at her with blue eyes.

"The people who had him weren't taking very good care of him." Cor explained, watching her intently.

Like Daryl had with her. She hadn't expected to like Cor more, but she felt like her heart was getting too big in his chest. Even though this baby wasn't his baby, he wanted to take care of it.

"Prompto is a funny name." She stepped closer, leaning into his shoulder, admiring the baby. 

"He'll grow into it. What do you think?" Cor asked gently.

If anything the too big feeling got bigger in her chest. "I think if he is nobody's baby he should be our baby."

Cor smiled at her, cupping the back of her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She liked the look on his face, she thought maybe it was the same as the warm too big feeling in her chest.

After mama had died she had been alone, but now she had Cor and baby Prompto and maybe Laelia and Clarus and Gladio and the king. That was a lot of people now. A whole big family.

"Can we go home now?" She asked softly, looking between Clarus and the King, then back to Cor. "Do we have to get stuff for Prompto?"

"We will go look for things for Prompto tomorrow." Cor told her, looking at the king.

"Oh please go home. You are almost transparent. Look after them for me, Crowe?" Regis asked, winking at her.

She nodded seriously, accepting the mission. 

~*~

Cor had been concerned, at first, that two kids would be too much. 

 

But Prompto let them sleep in, and Crowe was downright well behaved for once, asking attentively what she could do to help.

He had been a little worried at first, not sure what the little girl would think of a nearly newly hatched brother.

He grimaced at bit at that thought. Prompto was – by his best guess – a few months old. But who knew how long ago he’d come out of those pods? 

He was making breakfast for Crowe, listening with half an ear for if Promto started to cry, but the house was almost unsettlingly silent. 

Crowe was always up to something, or into something. There had been noise in the esate since Crowe had moved in. 

It was weird to find it silenced.

 

“You’ll meet Gladio, probably, he can be really loud. He’s not good at sneaking, but he’s pretty cool. Cor and me’ll teach you to sneak.” Crowe’s voice was soft, and he wasn’t sure at first what she was doing until he peered into the other room to find her leaning over Prompto’s makeshift swing.

The baby was awake and watching her, finger curled around the scarf she was playing with him with.

“Aunt Laelia might try to make you wear a dress. You’re pretty cute, so it’s hard right now to tell you’re a boy. But she might not. She’s pretty nice, Uncle Clarus is the big guy you met last night. He’s pretty big, and sometimes you’d think he’d be scary. But dad – Cor – is much scarier. You should see the recruits when Cor snarls at them instead of Uncle Clarus.” Crowe was telling him, little face drawn up and serious. “But you’ll figure everything out. King Regis was the other guy last night, he’s pretty ok. I’ll tell you a secret but you can’t tell anyone I told you, he’s got a snack drawer in his desk. So if you get dragged to a council meeting and you get hungry, just ask him.” 

“Crowe?” 

She stood up, startled. “Cor?” 

He paused, thinking about asking her, but decided he should pretend he hadn’t heard. “I’ve got breakfast done. After that, we’ll go to the shops and get some things to decorate Prompto’s room.”

“Good. I don’t think he likes the walls so dark. They might be scary.” Crowe said, clearly expressing the authority as she scampered into the other room.

He looked at the baby, who was peering after her, scarf in his mouth. 

“I don’t know either, kid. But you sure got her wrapped around your pinkie fast.” He lifted him out of the swing, settling his against his shoulder.

Like always, the little one relaxed and sighed as soon as he was picked up.


	7. Chapter 7

Crowe was rather satisfied with her baby brother. He was cute, and he was distracting so now when they went places people paid attention to him and not her.

Somehow, he had even made the queen like her. Which was probably black magic, but she wasn't going to nark on him.

He was mostly happy, and he didn't cry when things upset him justa little, only when things upset him a whole bunch. And then it wasn't so much a cry as uncanny, bone chilling sound that made both her and Cor run for him to see what was wrong.

He stopped as soon as Cor picked him up. Usually. The only time he hadn't he had spent the next two days puking and Cor hadn't gone to work and there had been a flush to his cheeks that she hadn't liked.

Babies died of fevers all the time, and she asked Cor how to pray for he six that he wouldn't.

The prayers had apparently worked, because the fever went away and Prompto was back to being a giggly little brother who reached for her and Cor no matter how important the person holding him was.

Family loyalty was a good feature.

Her first year with Cor ended on a rainy, cold day just a few days after the Prince turned one.

Prince Noctis was cute, not as cute as Prompto - she was biased - but he was cute. He liked to try to chase her, even though she was bigger and faster, and sometimes he traded toys with Prompto when Prompto didn't want to trade and they had to negotiate to get them back. But he was pretty ok.

In a stunning display of disloyalty Gladio had upon turning four that the prince was better than Prompto.

Which was impossible. The prince was grumpy and Prompto was a Sunbeam who never ever had a bad day when she was with him.

But Gladio insisted. On account of he was going to be the prince's shield and so he should take up for him.

She could still beat him wrestling. She was bigger and stronger and faster than he was. 

Even if he turned out big like uncle Clarus, she would still be a year older and a lot faster. 

She mulled over that, squeezing the edge of the chair to keep herself from fidgeting. The grown ups were being all weird right now, all four of them leaning together near the king's desk. The king looked really bad - ashen even. That was her new word. She had been learning fancy words with her tutor before Cor had come to get her.

Gladio was sitting on a chair next to her, pouting at the fact that he had been brought in.

Prompto was sitting in the Prince's baby cage, And the king was holding the prince on his hip.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

"Cwa." Prompto said quietly around his fist.

She shook her head at him slightly, trying not to move too much. He was too little to know that when the adults were that quiet something was wrong.

Cor was speaking softly, emphasising his points with his hands. Damn. Damn.

Something was really wrong.

"Cwa." Prompto insisted, balancing on his toes and reaching for her. 

She wrinkled her nose, glancing at Cor and the king, weighing the sort of need to be still and silent that she had grasped against the fact that Prompto would get loud if she didn't go get him out of jail 

Gladio looked over at her, hair a mess in his face.

She sighed out her breath on careful sigh, trying to be as quiet as a ghost. She could get Prompto fast and then come back to her chair. The king would not even see her if she went fast.

She gave the king a sideways look, Laelia had a hand on his arm and was leaning in, sympathetic 

It was really bad. So prompto should be close to her so she could protect him. Cor had gone over escape plans with her later week - what she should do first and second. First was always to get Prompto.

She squinted her eyes shut and willed herself across the room. It was harder to do it when she meant to and not just flow into it. But she felt the flicker over her skin and was standing next to the jail, reaching in to lift her brother up and then another cross eyed willing to be back in her chair holding him.

Gladio made a delighted noise, which made the adults turn a little.

She hugged Prompto to her chest and tried to look innocent. Cor gave her a little nod of approval and turned back.

She shushed Gladio, who should know better. Hadn't she sworn him to the secret? He shouldn't make noise when she went fast, someone might notice 

He looked unhappy and went back to kicking his feet.

Prompto nuzzled against her, tiny warm body soft and sweet in her arms. Safe. Because something was wrong.

*~* 

The three days between the queen falling ill, the birth of a very weak and unlikely to live daughter and the death of the woman who Regis loved were some circle of hell.

He had never wanted a drink more and known more that he shouldn't have one.

Crowe was his silent shadow the entire time, clutching Prompto by the hand for the most part.

He had caught her putting him under her jacket to lay him down to sleep in those first few hours, fraught with tension and nerves and the fact that none of them knew anything. He wasn't sure if he should be mad at himself for not looking after her or be proud of her for rising to the occasion. She had even kept track of Gladio - a marvel on a good day, but even more so when the little boy was upset because neither of his parents were paying attention to him.

Posion. He had assumed it must be, but the confirmation made him want to gather up his children and never let them near food he didn't prepare himself.

Her Majesty had been enjoying a quiet meal with friends when she had suddenly collapsed, convulsed and vomited. The babe had been born barely an hour later, still and silent until a doctor had massaged her back to life.

Poison. Thank the six the prince had not been with her.

God's above what were they going to do?

Crowe was coloring quietly on the floor of his office, Gladio pressed against her side and Prompto asleep on his mat not far away.

He needed to sleep. He needed a drink. He needed time and space to grieve, but he didn't trust anyone else to watch the kids right now except himself.

Neither did Clarus. 

The only reason Noctis wasn't here was because he had been taken to see his newborn sister - for fear that there would be no more chances - and Clarus had gone with Regis to see the babe.

God's above what were they going to do? 

"Where's Auntie?" Gladio asked softly.

"She died." Crowe said, voice quiet. "Sometimes that happens when women have babies. My mom did too."

Gladio looked unhappy. "Is die like going on a trip?"

Crowe shook her head. "It means your body is all used up and you fade away. I guess the six do something. Tre told me that Levithan gobbles up their souls until the world ends and then she spots them back up so Bahamut can judge them."

"I don't wanna get eaten by Levithan." Gladio muttered.

"You're not a girl, stupid. I think something different happens with boys." Crowe sounded incrediably sure of herself.

He wondered if he should stop them. Probably. They had tried to explain it to the kids, but Gladio was still very confused. Crowe had taken it with a shrug and a nod and asked after the Prince.

"What happens to boys?" Gladio asked, peering at the crayon in his hands.

"If they're stupid and break crayons on purpose then the Infernian burns them up." Crowe said hotly, scowling at him.

Gladio out the crayon down, instantly terrified. "I won't."

"Good." Crowe nodded and went back to coloring.

Gladio watched her intently, clearly submitting to the older girls knowledge on the subject. "do you think Noct'll be sad?"

"Prince Noctis, don't be simple." Crowe corrected. "And he's a baby, like Prompto. Prompto doesn't remember enough to be sad."

Gladio nodded. "I'm sorry you were sad, Crowe."

She shushed him and handed him one of the already broken crayons. "You can color with these."

He smiled at bit, watching the kids. Probably she had scared him for life, but he seemed more comfortable with the way she had explained it. 

There was something bracing about seeing his kid and Clarus's kid with their head together, working out a problem, giving advice and friendship.

He wanted that for her, to have someone like Clarus in her life.

The kids would be ok, even if the adults had no idea what to do next. He was sure of that.


	8. Chapter 8

Gladio wanted to see the baby, which was why they were here. In her personal opinion, babies weren’t all that much to look out until they were bigger.

But Gladio was curious enough to try on his own, and if he got caught she would get in trouble. 

The baby princess was in a fish tank.

She studied the glass cage seriously, almost afraid to reach through the little openings to touch her. There were wires everywhere. She kept Gladio back, not trusting that he had actually washed his hands.

That’s what Cor always said about babies, you should never touch them unless you washed your hands. 

Gladio hated washing, and water, and being clean. Which was bad for a very small baby in a fish tank. 

“what’s wrong with her?” Gladio asked softly, looking disappointed. 

The baby didn’t look like a princess, she looked like she was almost dead. Only her little hands moved, and then only rarely. 

“I think she got sick like Auntie did.” She told him, dragging him with her as she circled the baby cage. 

That was the only thing that made sense. Cor would never let them put a baby in a cage without a reason.

The baby twitched again.

Why had King Regis brought Noct to see her? She was scary to look at, and Noct was only mostly still a baby himself, only a tiny bit older than Prompto was.

Shouldn’t they keep him away until she got well?

She remembered crawling into what would become her mother’s death bed, curling into her shoulder – mom’s skin had been fever hot against her skin, and her arms had been weak when they held her. One last time. Mom had whispered into her hair.

Her eyes stung, the hard, hurting feeling sticking somewhere in her stomach. 

They adults were stupid if they were giving her up, already saying goodbye. “Go stand by the door.” She told Gladio, her voice shaking a little bit.

Gladio looked at her, eyes huge, worried. “Crowe?”

“Go on, stupid. Make sure nobody comes in.” She ordered, blinking her eyes against the tears. 

“What are you gonna do?” Glaido asked softly. 

 

She shook her head. “Go on.” 

 

He obeyed, though he kept looking at her. Which meant he was probably a terrible lookout. 

She had tried with mama, but mama had been so big and the fever had been so hot by the time she had touched her. But it worked with little things, like the dog, and the chickens. Maybe it would work with too small princesses?

She hadn’t washed her hands, she realized dimly just before she reached into the glass cage. Cor was gonna be mad at her. 

She reached into her magic, isolating a tendril. Gamze had always told her to make sure she isolated the magic first, so she wouldn’t put too much of herself into the spell and risk killing herself. Gamze had been her first and only teacher, in that single winter before she died. She had no idea how much magic it took to heal a princess. 

She isolated the spell, though, and reached to rest her fingers against the back of the tiny hand. The skin was hot – fever or lights? She wasn’t sure. She could feel the soft flutter of the pulse. 

“Life.” She commanded softly, focusing on the intent behind the spell – healthy princess – and not just the word she focused on.

She thought about the princess outside, about Clarus carrying Noctis because King Regis was holding the still nameless princess. She thought about the princess learning to crawl towards her like Prompto, balanced on little hands and giggling. She thought about a snoring baby drooling in her hair.

And then she let the magic go.

“CROWE!” Gladio called, as the darkness folded around her and she knew no more. 

*~*

In the new normal that was his life meant that getting an alert on his phone demanding him in medical immediately was almost pedestrian. 

Had it finally happened? Had the princess lost her fight? 

He exited the interview into pandemonium, people running everywhere and the sound of a baby wailing. 

“Sir!” Someone paused midstep, saluting. “We don’t know what happened.”

“What do you mean you don’t know what happened?” He snapped, pinning the man with his look. “Where’s the princess?”

“She’s….she’s fine sir. It’s your daughter.” The man look hesitant. 

Crowe? His heart lurched in his chest, and he was off down the hall without thought. 

Gladio was sitting on a stretcher, being checked over by a nurse, nose wrinkled up and mouth open as he protested. A nurse was holding the baby princess, who was screaming her little head off, kicking fat arms and legs in fury at her bad handling as they checked her over. 

Crowe was on another stretcher, pale and limp beneath the ministrations of the nurses. 

“Crowe!” He should probably check on the princess, he should be properly focused on his duty to the crown, but he was kneeling next to his daughter before he had even fully processed everything he had seen. He lifted her hand, fingers pressing to her little wrist, waiting until he felt the weak beat of her heart. “What’s wrong with her?”

“The alarms went off.” The doctor was explaining. “We came in fearing the worse, but the princess was….she was healthy. Almost as well formed as a full term baby, even if she is small. Her lungs are fine, the weakness of her heart is gone. She took almost an entire bottle with no help.”

He growled. “What’s wrong with Crowe!?” 

 

“We’re not sure. The young Amicitia heir says she “did something”, but he can’t explain what. Ms. Leonis was unconscious when we entered, and reviewing the tapes it appears that she only touched her for a moment.” The doctor looked at a loss. “The closest I could compare it to is…well. Combat fatigue. Magical exhaustion. We see Glaive regularly for those symptoms. But she’s only a child.” 

He lifted her into his arms, pillowing her head against his shoulder. “Will she recover?”

“If it is what it appears? Yes. She will be weak for some time, but her magical reserves should recover in time. Usually, this even results in added strength.” The doctor was frowning at him. “But we cannot know. There is no reason she should be able to use magic, sir.” 

He ignored the man, rocking his daughter in his arms. “You’ve called the king?”

“We have. He received the same alert that you did.” The doctor informed him.

Regis would be here soon, probably with Clarus in tow. 

Six above, she had to be ok. He couldn’t lose her. “Have you tried an Elixer?” 

“She’s a child.” The Doctor immediately objected. “We have no idea what she did, but giving her magical potions seems counterproductive. It could likely cause her harm.”

He rolled his eyes, glancing up as Regis – white faced, panting, clearly terrified, walked through the door into the hospital room. Confusion settled on his face as he walked forward, reaching for the baby princess. 

She was still wailing, making up for two months of not being able to do more than gasp for breath. 

“What is this?” Clarus asked, picking up his own son.

“We’re not sure, sire-“ The Doctor began. 

“Out.” He growled. “Everyone, get out of here. Now. Shut down the monitoring if you like your jobs.” 

The doctor hovered for a moment longer, then made a gesture at his staff, leading them all out of the royal suite. 

Regis sunk into the chair that had been placed in the corner of the room for him to visit, shushing the baby and rocking her against his shoulder. “Is Crowe?”

“Magically exhausted.” He pinned Gladio with a look. “Did she bring you here?” 

Gladio nodded against his father’s shoulder. “I wanted to see the princess.”

“What happened?” He couldn’t stop the growl, and knew he was scaring the kid, but Crowe was still and silent in his arms. 

“She told me to watch the door.” Gladio whimpered. “Then she touched the baby, and there was music and a big light, and then the baby started crying and Crowe fell down.”

“’Music and a big light?’” Regis murmured. “A restorative spell? How? I tried.”

“Healing magic was never your best subject.” Clarus muttered, rocking his son.

Regis nodded quietly, looking at Crowe. “But it appears she is magically gifted. We knew she could warp. But this….” He looked down at the child in his arms, finally quieting. “She’s….she’s crying. She’s breathing without the machines to breathe for her.”

“What sort of spell is ‘music with a big light’?” Clarus asked. “Never seen you do that one. Just you know…” He made a gesture. “Dome and green flecks.”

“Is Crowe going to be ok?” Gladio asked softly, clearly worried. 

 

He called an Elixir from the Armiger, working the cork out of the bottle and slowly coaxing small mouthfuls of it down her throat. 

“Probably, buddy. You shouldn’t sneak around with Crowe, ok?” Clarus told his son gently. 

Gladio nodded firmly, which meant the command would probably hold for at least a few weeks before Crowe was on her feet again.

She stirred, still groggy, hand clutching at his jacket, forehead furrowed. “Dad?” 

His heart lurched a bit at the soft word. Crowe would introduce him as “her dad” but she always called him Cor to his face. “I’m here.”

She squinted at him, then nestled her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes again. 

 

He cradled the back of her head, leaning over her. 

“As to the answer, I am not sure. So much magic has been lost to us. I can write Sylva and ask if she has a clue, but otherwise I would assume that….well, it could be a spell of her own crafting. Or wilder magic.” 

“Wild magic can do that?” Clarus sounded doubtful. 

“Oh yes. Or if a Messenger happened upon her? Very easily. Once the Caelums were healer kings, you know.” Regis was still looking down at the princess, smile warm and thoughtful.

“I need to get her home.” He said softly, rising with Crowe in his arms. He was happy for his king, truly. But he would not accept the cost of his daughter as the way to make the legitimate princess live. 

“I’ll call Laelia and have her meet at your house. I can drive.” Clarus stood up.


	9. Chapter 9

Cor worried too much, she decided. He worried about her magic, and he worried about her ability to fight, and he worried about bruises that she had earned, damnit, when she had gotten under his guard and made a hit before his reflexes put her on the ground.

 

She spun, feet carefully balanced on the ledge.

 

Her tutor was drinking coffee with Gladio’s tutor, and neither was paying much attention to either of them. Gladio was trying to lure the fish in the pond to his fingers.

 

She still ached a little bit, like she had a cold and her head was stuffed full of snot. Healing the princess was more than healing a puppy or a chicken, and she still didn’t know why.

 

She had dutifully agreed that she wouldn’t do it again unless it was an emergency and she would tell Cor first. But he was worried, not mad.

 

The ledge was barely as wide as her foot, which made it perfect for balance practice – Cor insisted that she had to know how to protect herself, and that included leaving fear on the ground and finding her way up.

 

She had never really been afraid of up, but Cor wanted to see more form than just the function needed to carry her from place to place.

 

So she was minding her feet, and not cheating – she didn’t understand why it was cheating, but Cor said it was and that she shouldn’t do it until she had ‘mastered the basics’.

 

She still wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was fine. She could balance without cheating.

 

She rocked forward on her toes and spun lightly in place, and then went backwards, catching herself with her hands to complete the flip.

 

Tutors were still talking. Gladio could have drowned in the fish pond.

 

She shook her head, repositioning herself to go forward, and started to tip – someone grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up on the stairs. She gave an offended squawk and struck out with her hands, biting down on the arm so much they dropped her.

 

“I told you to leave her alone.” A voice said near her.

 

She rolled quickly, backing up – checking, tutors, passerbys who didn’t seem to notice, Gladio still playing in the fish pond, guard twenty paces to her left where he should be answering a question, and two teen boys standing over her. “What’d you do that for?” She demanded.

 

“You were going to fall.” One of them said, sheepish.

 

“Nah uh! I knew what I was doing, I can _balance.”_ She informed him tartly.

 

The taller one was covering a laugh with his hand, real humor lighting his eyes.

 

“You looked like you were about to fall – and you clearly had before, look at your face!” He defended, indicating the bruising.

 

“That’s from training.” She corrected. “I missed a block.” She fingered the bruise carefully, it was still sort of puffy and sore.

 

“Someone _hit_ you?” The one that had grabbed her said, aghast. “You’re from Galahd, like us.” He indicated the boy. “Who hit you?”

 

“My dad, stupid, I told you it’s for training.” He wasn’t listening good. But now that he had said something she did recognize the sound of his voice, the way they spoke. Cor said it was an accent. Her tutor hated that she had one and kept trying to train her out of talking like ‘a hick’ when Cor wasn’t looking.

 

“You’re what, four? Who’s training you for anything?” He crouched down, awkward.

 

The other one looked more serious.

 

“I’m almost six. I lost my first tooth already.” She pulled down her lip to show him the gap.

 

The boy looked dutifully impressed. “Listen, your dad shouldn’t hit you.”

 

“He didn’t mean to.” She said, letting go of her lip. “I caught him off guard, cause I cheated, and I got a hit in on his side and he reacted and I hit the ground.” She had been pretty proud, Cor had been pretty horrified. “I didn’t let him fix it cause I wanna remember next time that he follows up a good hit with a reaction.”

 

The boys exchanged a look.

 

 

She crossed her arms. “What are you doing here anyway?”

 

“Trying to find where they’re sticking us for housing.” The taller boy said simply. “Getting a feel for the place.”

 

Refugees. She wiggled the tooth with her tongue next to the one she lost. “These are shops. Not housing.”

 

“Well where do you live?” The kneeling one asked.

 

“I’m not apposed to tell strangers.”

 

“Crowe!” Her tutor had finally noticed she was missing, and was coming up the stairs looking mad, Gladio trailing behind her.

 

“Oh no…” She groaned. “I’m going to have to write so many lines. Good luck finding your house! Bye!” She scampered down the stairs to her tutor, pinching Gladio for not warning her.

 

He whined, glancing back at the boys as he rubbed his arm.

 

“You should not have talked to them.” Her tutor told her sternly.

 

 

“They’re from Galahd.” She informed the woman.

 

The flinty look got worse. “Then you doubly should not be talking to refugees. You are a lady of noble birth.”

 

She wrinkled her nose. “Dad says we aren’t noble, and I was born in Galahd.”

 

“Best you forget that as soon as possible. Your father’s position affords you certain rank and you should mind yourself before you stain it more than you already have.” The tutor hissed at her.

 

She imagined the woman as a snake, when she drew her. She didn’t tell anyone, though. She thought Cor might scold her. But the way she talked and behaved reminded her of a snake. One of the big ones that bothered everyone until a hunter could come take it away.

 

Her tutor was still scolding her as they walked away, she risked a glance back and waved at the boys.

 

*~*

 

“If you’re going to throw yourself into things, you need to do it right.” Cor was telling the cadets, walking up and down the row.

 

She found her seat, pushing her hands up under her arms to warm them. The wind was cold. Cor said it was going to be a bad, miserable winter because of how cold it was already.

 

It was already a bad, miserable fall.

 

But they couldn’t go get Prompto till Cor was done inducting the new cadets, and she wasn’t going to retreat back inside where he tutor might find her and scold her again. She liked watching Cor train other people, cause it made her sure he wasn’t going easy on her cause she was little.

 

She didn’t want Cor to baby her.

 

Cor wasn’t splitting them into pairs yet, but she caught one of the boys from the other day looking at her from the crowd, the taller one, the one that hadn’t grabbed her. He seemed curious.

 

“Something distracting, Ulric?” Cor demanded, walking up to almost face to face with the boy.

 

“Sir, no, sir.”

 

King Regis liked bringing refugees in the army. She had heard someone from the council say that refugees made soldiers they could lose without mourning, except when she’d asked King Regis about it he had been horrified and corrected her.

 

She thought it was probably more like the council said, and King Regis was just trying to be nice. There were always new refugees, and nobody ever liked them much.

 

Cor turned to look at where she was sitting, and motioned for her to come to him. Relived to get out of the cold she did. “This is my daughter. I will give you one warning and one warning only; she’s sharp, if you’re slacking and by some act of the six I don’t see it, she will.” His hand settled on her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “You should also thank her tonight, because she means you get to go home early. I don’t want her in this wind.”

 

Ulric was staring at her, fascinated and curious, and seemed on the verge of walking over to introduce himself.

 

His friend seemed to be immune to the look Cor leveled him. “Hey. Uh. Crowe. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

 

She blinked at him, feeling Cor’s hand tighten slightly on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t think someone can’t balance just cause they’re small.” She told him.

 

He grinned a bit. “I ain’t got the head for heights like you do. I got scared, that’s all. I’ll remember in the future that you’re good at balancing. And…don’t listen to her, ok?”

 

He had heard her tutor, probably. She nodded solemnly. “You shouldn’t listen to her either. King Regis says even if we’re from Galahd we’re Lucians too.”

 

The kid looked at Cor, but nodded. “I’ll probably see you around. Oh. My name is Libertus. My friend is Nyx. I guess we’re going to be Glaive now.”

 

She grinned. “You might have to learn how to balance.”

 

He laughed and walked away.

 

“Who doesn’t he want you to listen to?” Cor asked quietly, dropping to a knee beside her. “How did you meet them?”

 

“I was with my tutor and Gladio and using the big founder statue for practice, and I guess he thought I was gonna fall so he grabbed me.” She watched Libertus join Nyx, wishing she could hear what they were saying to each other. “My tutor says I shouldn’t talk to them, on account of they’re from Galahd. But so am I. She says I should forget that part, and just be yours.” She looked at Cor, finally, searching his face.

 

 

“You’re a better Lucian than she will ever be. Why didn’t you tell me she was being cruel?” He looked concerned.

 

She shrugged. “I chased all the other ones away, and she wouldn’t go, so I thought I was stuck with her.”

 

Cor sighed, bringing his other hand up to her shoulder. “She stayed because I thought the two of you were getting along, Crowe. I never want you to put up with something that makes you uncomfortable because you think it’s what I want?”

 

She nodded. “I like being from Galahd. I like living here in Lucis with you. But my mom was in Galahd and I loved her.”

 

“I know. Don’t forget her. I’m not asking that of you.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze. “We’ll find you a different tutor. Maybe one from Galahd who can share your memories.”

 

She smiled a big and gave him a hug. “Lib was mad cause he thought you hit me.”

 

“I did hit you.” He pulled her back and fingered the yellowing bruise. “You should have let me heal it.”

 

“Nah uh. You tell them all the time if we heal every scrape, then we don’t learn to avoid what caused it. Basics!” She grinned.

 

He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t use my words against me, Crowe.”

 

“Basics!” She repeated, giggling and darting away. “Imma get Prom! Catch up!”

 

“No cheating.” He reminded her.

 

She checked her pace, but stuck out her tongue at him and kept going.


	10. Chapter 10

Paperwork. If anyone had told him when he had first entered the Crownsguard that his primary purpose would one day be paperwork, he would have likely attacked them and demanded they withdraw the words.

He had been an impulsive punk.

It was almost a relief when someone knocked on the door. “Enter.”

The door cracked open, and Ulric poked his head in. “You wanted to see us, sir?” 

“Ostium is with you? Good. Come in.” 

The boys stood at sloppy attention in front of his desk, he swallowed a sigh and motioned for them to sit. “I wanted to explain some things.”

Ulric was impassive, but Ostium looked started. “Sir?”

“Crowe said that you were concerned about her bruising. Which is understandable.” He sat down the pen, linking his fingers together to study them. 

“Yes, sir. She said you were training her.” Ostium crossed his hands in his lap, then uncrossed them. 

“I am. She’s young for it, but it is very important that she knows how to defend herself. Because of my connection to the king, there would be those who targeted her to get to me.” He tilted his head, watching the boys. 

“She’s a kid.” Ostium said softly. “Like…a little kid.”

He twitched his lips. “Which makes her an excellent target for kidnapping. I am close to the king, and important in my own right. And I love my daughter.” He glanced between the boys. The only reason he was doing this was because he had somewhat of an idea that they might try something stupid if he didn’t explain it. “She’s stubborn, and the reason she wears the bruises is because she’s sat in on enough training sessions and heard me bark at kids your age. The truth is, I rather think that if anyone who took her would turn themselves in to get away from her. But.”

“You want to make sure she’s prepared.” Ulric said quietly.

“War doesn’t recognize civilians. I am sure you both know that.” He glanced between them. Refugees, new refugees, kids who didn’t have anyone. 

“Yes sir.” Ostium muttered. 

“She doesn’t absorb the impact of what she does just yet. But she’s a good kid.” He smiled a bit. “She is learning and practicing what she is taught.” 

Ostium nodded, looking at Ulric.

“We’ll keep an eye out for her.” Ulric offered. 

He was pretty sure that the kid had lied on his enlistment, but he couldn’t prove it. There was no way Ulric was fifteen, he still had the rangy look of early puberty. Whatever was left of Galahd’s records were in Imperial hands, so he would get a pass for being good at the training. “Will you?” He had somewhat expected that.

“Yes sir, if that is alright with you.” Ostium said, voice a little too fast.

“I have no doubt if I told you ‘no’ that you would find some way to do it anyway.” He inclined his head. “Don’t let it distract you from your training, but if you can keep up with her, the gods grant you patience.”

Ostium brightened a bit, seeming relived. “Of course, sir. Like my own little sister.”

There was old pain in those words, he didn’t question it. 

“Very well. Dismissed.” He waved a hand and the boys both scrambled to their feet. 

He watched them go, picking up the proposed breakdown of assignments. He really wanted Ulric for the guard, not the Glaive. Ostium was a solid sort that could do well anywhere. But he had a soft spot for kids rushing ahead of themselves to get into trouble. 

They reminded him too much of himself. 

~*~

Nyx could braid – not like Laelia did, the Lucian way – but the way that her mother had done it in Galahd before she had married again and everything had gone wrong. 

He had quick fingers at it too, and had beads that looked like the beads from home that slid into her hair like they belonged there. She almost didn’t want him to be done, even though he was done so quick cause he knew what he was doing. 

She ran her fingers through the little braids and careful knots with a sigh of pleasure. “Thanks, Nyx. My hair doesn’t work the other way.”

He grinned and tousled her hair. “You look proper now, kid.”

The braids bounced reassuringly against her head, she closed her eyes to relish the weight of it. Laelia did fancy braids, Lucian braids, which her hair slipped out of almost as soon as it was done. This was the sort of braid she should be wearing. “You think you could teach my dad?” 

Nyx looked briefly surprised. “You think he’d learn?”

She considered, Cor was pretty good at most things, and he usually wanted to learn more about things he wasn’t good at. He also liked her to be happy, and despaired at her hair so often to Laelia that it was becoming a code word of sorts between them. “Probably. He’s got good hands for it, you know? I think he’d learn. Do you think Prompto has enough hair for it yet?” 

Nyx blinked, glancing at Lib as though the other man might have some answer for him, but Lib looked just as lost as he was. “Not sure. He’s not from Galahd, is he?”

“He’s my brother.” She told them both fiercely. “And I’m from Galahd, so he gets to count.” 

Nyx held up his hands, putting his kit away carefully and shoving it back in his small bag. She watched him, wondering when she stopped doing that. When the war had come to Galahd, everything she owned had fit into a bag.

Now she had so much stuff, so many clothes, so many books and practice swords and colors and just things. Her birthday had been so weird, Clarus and King Regis and Aunt Laelia and her dad had all gotten her more things than she owned in her life. Not like mama who would get her one or two presents. Maybe new beads, or new threads of a different color for braiding. Her step-father had gotten her a flat shucking knife the one birthday he had bothered with. She still had that in the little bag she had brought with her from Galahd. She hadn’t looked at it in months. Was she forgetting? 

And Prince Noctis’ birthday was even worse. There had been more presents than even the shops could hold. More presents than Prince Noctis had even bothered with opening, King Regis said he’d donated most of them. People had given Noctis more stuff than he would ever need. Than ten babies would ever need. 

It didn’t feel like she was part of Galahd anymore, like they were. Where everything you didn’t have on you could be lost in moments. 

“I can try, if he wants to learn.” Nyx offered, once his things were secure.

She nodded, blinking against the burning at the corner of her eyes. “Lunch’s over. I gotta find Gladio before he gets lost.”

“Right. See you later, Kiddo. Tell us what your dad things of the braids, ok?” Lib told her, giving her a fond half hug. 

She nodded, still blinking hard to keep the tears from rising, the old familiar weight of her braids against her neck once more. 

If she stopped being part of Galahd, who was she, anyway? She pictured her mother’s face in her mind, the carved wooden box her step father had sold as soon as mama had gotten sick that had held all her hair things. She has whispered the meanings as she'd tied each braid, the same way she'd told Nyx and he'd replicated. 

She bit her lip, running fingers against the bracelet Cor had gotten her, the smooth round stones that were cold despite her body heat. Cor hadn’t gotten them for any particular reason. Just because. Just to have. 

That was what Insomnia was like. You could have things, you could throw them away and get rid of them or just get new things.

It made something catch in her throat. Something bad, something that hurt almost too much to swallow around. 

She wanted Cor, but she knew he was busy, and so she just crept into his office where she knew nobody would find her and curled up to shed the tears in silence.


	11. Chapter 11

Cid took two steps into the room before he spotted Crowe, eyes narrowing. 

He braced himself, leaving Prompto in the highchair to try to get his beans up his nose to try to intercede.

“Who the hell are you?” Cid asked, frowning at the little girl. 

“I’m Crowe Leonis. Who the hell are you?” Crowe snapped back. “You’re in my house.” 

“Like hell you are.” Cid sputtered, staring at the kid, then back at him. “Cor, what in tarnation are you playing at here?!” 

“Dustin, please make sure Prompto doesn’t fall out of his chair.” He hooked his hand through Cid’s elbow, hauling Cid out into the hallway. “She’s mine. Stop swearing at my kid.”

Cid gaped at him. “You ain’t got a kid.”

“I do. I have two. You met the younger one when I first rescued him.” He explained, trying to get Cid to quiet down before Crowe came storming out to shout at him.

“Ain’t no way you got some girl pregnant, Cor, and that’s a damned fact. Whose is she really?” Cid demanded, voice hushed. 

“Later. Please, don’t make a scene. She’s my daughter.” 

Cid’s jaw worked for a moment, he was clearly barely holding onto his temper, eyes flashing. “Who’s the mother?” 

He sighed. “Swann. Swann Altius.”

Cid scowled at him. “I’ll behave. But you better believe we’re talking about this later.”

“And apologize to Crowe.” He ordered sternly.

Cid softened a bit. “Course I will. Just caught me off guard, coming in with you sitting down for a family dinner with an actual family, kid.” 

He grunted, stepping back in the dining room.

Crowe had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the door. “Dad!”   
“It’s fine. He’s a friend I haven’t seen in a while.” He explained. 

 

“Sorry about that, little miss. Your dad is the last person I thought would settle down and have a couple kids is all.” Cid patted down his pockets, and came up with a multi-tool, which he knelt down and offered the girl. “He was a rascal when he was younger.” 

Crowe looked doubtful, but she took the bribe. “Was he?”

“Yep. Never found a fight he could walk away from.” Cid grinned. “I got a granddaughter around your age, you know. You’d think him and Clarus would send me a note, let me know these things.” 

Crowe glanced at him, still clearly irritated. “Yeah. Aunt Laelia says they’re bad at talking to anyone but each other.”

“That’s been the way of things since they were your size.” Cid grinned. “Your mama was from Galahd, yeah? Cove?”

Crowe blinked, her eyes sliding to him. “How do you know that?”

“Well, I read it in your braids. Always liked how clear they were about where they hailed from. You’ll have to tell me about it, been years since I was in Galahd.” 

Crowe nodded, tugging at one of her braids, a little smile on her face. “Ok.” 

“Names Cid, kiddo. You?”

“Crowe.” She introduced, relaxing a bit. “How come you never come around if you’re a friend of my dad?”

“Cause me and the king had a bit of a falling out years ago, before you were born. I got some info to pass along to your dad and Clarus, which is why I’m here.” Cid explained. “You think I could borrow him for a bit?”

Crowe looked over at him, questioning. He smiled a bit in return. “Do you mind staying with Dustin and your brother?”

She nodded quickly. “Prompto has to take a bath. I’ll help Dustin.”

“Good girl.” He touched the top of her head. “I’ll wake you up when I get back so you know I’m home.”

She put her arms around his waist for a moment, sliding Cid another look. 

He gave her a reassuring squeeze, nodded once to Dustin, and left with Cid.

She was gone by the time he got home. 

*~* 

She helped Dustin wash the peas out of Prompto’s hair, and read him his favorite book and made sure his stuffed chocobo was tucked into his cot with him.

Dustin was a good guard, Dustin could make sure Prompto was safe while she and Cor were out of the house. Cor trusted him, and Cor didn’t trust anyone. She’d prefer Monica but Dustin would work. 

“I’m going to bed.” She declared, once she was absolutely sure that Prompto was asleep and wouldn’t stir unless someone bombed the house. 

“Very well, Mistress Leonis.” Dustin said gently, already taking his crossword book out of his pocket. “Please sleep well.”

She nodded, taking the steps two at a time until she was safe in her room. She grabbed her little bag – she was keeping it again, like a proper daughter of Galahd, with knife and supplies and treasures ready to go if she ever needed to go. She also took a wad of Gil out of the jar she was keeping, tucking it into her pocket. 

Lib had told her the station they stopped at, she bet she could get on the subway. 

She’d never ridden the subway, but she bet she could do it. Her tutor had been rather dismissive of them, and she had really only stayed in her corner of the city. 

But she could get to Nyx and Lib, she was sure of it. And they might know the answers to the questions that Cid had put in her head better than her dad did. 

She loved Cor, she really did. She knew he tried the hardest he could. But she felt the words like knots in her chest that meant she wanted the burr of the ocean in Nyx’s voice, and the way his hands settled on his hair when he needed to redo her braids. 

Nyx was hunter-born, practically a shaman. Lib knew what he was talking about too. 

It was almost no work at all to go from her window to the edge of the wall, just a little bit of cheating, a muted flash of magic later and she was dropping over the wall of the Leonis estate.

The only light in the house was in the study, where Dustin was probably still working on his crossword, and the small light in Prompto’s window that stayed on to keep him safe from the night-hags.

“I’ll be back.” She promised the little light, willing her brother to know that she would be. 

And then she was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Miracle of miracles – he would appreciate it more any other day – Cid and Regis were managing to exist in the same room without sniping at each other. 

Noctis and Stella had been put to bed in Prompto’s nursery, and a sleepy Gladio had been herded in to “keep watch” with Monica and Dustin.

“No sign of a struggle. Is there anywhere outside of the palace she might go?” Clarus asked quietly. 

“No. She doesn’t….there isn’t anyone in the city outside of us.” He was pacing, which wasn’t helping, but his stomach was doing twists within his gut and all he could think was that he had allowed this to happen.

Damn it. Why tonight? Why now? Had someone followed Cid? Had they known he was leaving and grabbed his daughter? Why not take Prompto too? If she had snuck out, where the hell was she going? And why? 

He dropped his hand to his pocket, looking for his phone, only to have Regis hold it up for him.

He grabbed it, scrolling through – there was only one number for the both of them, newly arrived he doubted they had the funds to manage much more than one shitty phone. He prayed they had service as he hit the call button.

It answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Ulric, it’s the Marshal. Is Crowe there?” He demanded. 

There was a confused, sleepy noise somewhere nearby, but Ulric’s answer came almost immediately. “No sir. Last I saw her was at training today. What happened?”

He ground his teeth, considering – trust them or don’t trust them? Gods above, they were kids just as much as she was. Young kids. “She’s missing.”

“Understood. Wake up, Crowe’s missing.” Ulric said to someone. “We’ll search for her, sir. Work our way back towards the citadel. Any leads?”

“None yet. We’re not sure if she left on her own or if someone used the opportunity to take her. Either way, she’s in danger now.” He locked his jaw. “I’m sending people out into the city to look for her, call me if you find any leads.”

“Yes sir.” Ulric answered, voice calm, and disconnected the call.

*~*

The city was bigger than she thought. Her feet were tired. 

She hadn’t found a subway yet that was going where she needed, which was weird. Because Lib said on rainy days they took it home, and he’d told her their stop name. But the two stations she had stopped in hadn’t had that, and they had been pretty empty. 

So she kept walking in the same vague direction that she assumed they were in. 

There were less cars on the road as it got later, and less people walking around. Nobody who she felt like she could ask for directions. 

Maybe this was a bad idea. She should have asked Cor first. 

“Hey kid, you lost?” Someone said, then giggled. 

She glanced up, wary, into the eyes of a boy a bit older than Lib and Nyx.

“Course she’s lost. Look at those braids.” Someone behind her reached to give a tug and she slipped sideways to avoid the touch. “She’s one of the refugees.” 

She opened her mouth to deny it, but one of them shoved her and she stumbled, scowling at him. 

“I bet she can’t even speak Lucian. Some of them can’t, just random hick babble with nothing sensible in it.” One of the boys taunted, giving her another shove.

They had formed a ring around her, tight to keep her from slipping out. 

“What’s a little ref-baby doing out this late at night? Did they decide they didn’t want you too?” The first boy taunted. 

“Maybe she hasn’t got parents.”

“I do!” She tried to step out of the circle of them, but they blocked her and shoved her. 

“Yeah? They waiting at home for you? Must not care too much if you’re out here and they aren’t.” One of the boys sneered. 

Cor might be home by now. She thought about that desperately, hating the way that tears blurred her vision. She wanted to go home, now. This had been a very bad idea. 

She flicked her gaze upwards, trying to find some place to go, even if it was cheating.

One of them shoved her to the ground and she yelped, which only made them laugh. The pavement hurt, her hands felt scraped from where she’d caught herself and her knee hurt. 

She looked up to a kick aimed at her face and panicked, twisting sideways blindly as the foot clipped her head. 

She heard them shouting, even as she landed on something marginally softer, but the pain in her head was too much to focus through.

“Where the hell did she go?” 

She made herself small in wherever she was, hoping they wouldn’t spot her. 

“What the hell was that? The king? Why the hell can a little ref-brat do that?”

“Let’s just get out of here before someone comes.” The last one sounded a bit scared, like they weren’t sure about what had happened. 

She listened until she was sure they had run away, and then let her head fall to whatever she had found, suddenly so sleepy she couldn’t keep her head up at all. She wanted Cor. 

Nyx and Lib could wait until tomorrow, she just wanted Cor.

~*~

By the time morning arrived, with half the guard and whatever Glaive he could scare up combing the city on Regis’ orders, he was willing to try anything. 

Which was why Ulric was standing in the center of Crowe’s bedroom, nostrils flared wide like a bloodhound and head down. He moved slowly around her room, and then to the window, where he perched like a strangely assembled bird for a moment before leaping down. 

He swore, running back down the stairs to see the damned kid leap lightly over the stone wall that surrounded his house and cross the street. Ulric was still moving slowly, every muscle visible beneath the ratty t-shirt he wore from how tense he was. 

Hunter, Ulric had explained himself as. From a line of hunters as far back as Solhiem. He had no idea what that meant, but Ulric had sworn he could find her, and if he didn’t…well. He’d cross that bridge when they came to it. 

He followed Ulric for an hour, both being trailed above by Guard. Wary, unhappy people for this to happen right down the road from the Citadel. It was a dangerous, uneasy morning. 

They couldn’t advertise publically that she was missing, not without attracting the wrong sort of attention to her, the wrong sort of attention that might find her alone and unprotected before her rescuers could. Ulric was hope, if a weird one he wasn’t entirely sure he should be relying on. 

Ulric dropped lightly into a crouch, touching the pavement with his fingertips and lifting them to his lips. “Blood. It’s hers.”

His heart lurched as he scrambled forward. They were little smears on the pavement, too small to indicate a large amount of damage, though the splatter worried him.

Ulric turned in a slow circle, frowning. “The trail stops here.”

She must have warped. “Fan out, she’s close by.” He ordered into the radio. “Check inside buildings and up high.”

Ulric looked at him oddly, but obediently ambled – it was too early to call the careful walk anything but – towards one of the buildings. 

They found her in a donation bin, curled up asleep with blood all over her face and most of the clothes therein. She had bruising down the right side of her face, and scrapes on her palms and knees. But the medic assured him there was no concussion or significant blood loss, just a very tired child collapsed after too much excitement. 

He had never been so relieved to see her in his entire life, scooping her out of it as soon as the medic had cleared her for moment. 

“Must have climbed in when she got away.” The medic suggested. 

Ulric looked doubtful, but he was the only one who wasn’t swallowing it.

“Crowe, wake up.” He shook her gently until she stirred, squinting at the light and the ring of people around them. 

“Dad?” Her voice sounded a little groggy, dry and raspy. 

“Yeah, kiddo. You gave us a scare.” 

She clung to his shirt, pushing her face against him. “Sorry.”

There was a soft, relieved chuckle from around him, at least from the ones he knew had siblings or kids of their own. Someone radioed to let the rest of the searchers know they had found her. 

“Now we find the people that hurt her?” Ulric suggested, mild, but the entire pack turned like dogs with a scent towards him.

“Can you track them?” Merik, one of the more senior guards asked.

“I have their scent from where it mingled with hers.” Ulric offered. 

Merik clapped his shoulder. “Good man. Marshal?”

“Don’t damage them too badly, I want a piece as well.”

The dark chuckle probably meant he should reign them in, but he felt no inclination for mercy with the dark bruising on the side of Crowe’s face.


	13. Chapter 13

Being grounded was boring.  
She was a week into it and sure she was going to die. She couldn't leave line of sight of Cor or Clarus, she couldn't do anything fun at all - which meant she was mostly just sitting in the corner of one of their offices glaring at the books they made her read.

Being grounded was way worse than dealing with the boys. She could get away from the boys - and had.

She had been made to see them again when Cor arrested them, nodding to indicate they were the ones who had trapped her. It looked like someone had beaten them up a little, and the one that had kicked her had made a weird sound and gone super pale when she saw him.

Mr. Cid is wasn't allowed to watch her. Nor was Laelia or the King, who she might have been able to convince to take pity. She couldn't see Nyx or lib - just at practice and neither of them were talking. She couldn't talk to Gladio or play with him. She only saw Prompto at night when it was dinner time.

Everyone was mad at her and she had settled on being mad at everyone until such a time as Cor relented and freed her from doom.

The only plus side was Cor and Clarus were handling her lessens directly. No more tutors had been assigned for now.

"Stop glaring. It is a good book." Clarus told her, peering over his paper.

She switched her glare to Clarus, who only chuckled and shook his head at her. She wasn't near as good at glaring as Cor and Cor glared at Clarus all the time.

"You scared him, you know." Clarus offered, turning the page over. "He doesn't know how to deal with that in a kid. Normally he'd yell, but he's forbidden himself from yelling at you."

She grunted, trying to sound like Cor. "Cor isn't scared of nothing. He can fight everything.

"He can't fight loss. He can't fight death." Clarus told her. "He can't fight the empty space that people leave when they die on him."

"I wasn't gonna die. That's for big people." She dismissed. "I was faster than them."

Clarus tapped the side of his forehead. Her stitches had just come out last week, which she thought maybe meant Cor was on the way to forgiving her. She covered the tiny scar with her hand. "I got away."

"This time. You were lucky. You had something they didn't know you had. That will not always be the case."

She frowned at her feet.

Clarus sighed softly. "I can't believe I'm lecturing a Leonis about being impulsive.." He said that in the funny soft way that grownups did when they were talking to themselves. 

She thought it was because they forgot how to think the words quietly.

"He will get over being angry at you for taking a risk, Crowe. Not today. But he will. He wants you to take your own lesson from this." Clarus looked thoughtful. "You are a very clever little girl. But you are still a little girl."

"I know that." She could feel the little ridge by her hairline. 

She still wasn't sure what she thought about anything. Just that she was very tired of being in trouble.

She wanted things to go back to where they were normal and Cor liked her again.

*~*

Cor was relatively sure he was going slowly insane. That or he was already insane and his life was finally catching up with him.

Putting six Lucian teenagers to trial for assault on a child was not a thing lightly done, but they were doing it. They had camera footage from the stores that mysteriously cut off just a moment before Crowe warped away, and their own stuttered testimony that they had thought she was just a refugee kid and had not meant to hurt her.

It fed the anger in his chest, listening to them talk about that night. Of course they wouldn't have attacked her if they realized she was the Marshal's child.

What angered him more was the fact that the jury seemed sympathetic to their protests, good, upstanding citizens of Lucis all.

"Relax, my friend." Regis touched his arm. "You are grinding your teeth."

"If the jury finds them not guilty when we have tapes of them-" he growled.

"We have edited the tapes, Cor. Trust me." Regis gripped his arm a little bit tighter. "We will do what we can. No more, no less."

He looked away.

"How is she?" Regis asked gently.

"Mad. Pissed that she can't do anything. I can't let her just wander around. Of all the damned things they have supporters!" He hugged himself a little bit tighter, then eased his breath out, forcing his shoulders to relax. "Howm'i meant to explain that some people are just shit to her, Regis?"

"Well, my advice as your king is that you should tell her that some people are misinformed and might judge on first glance that we are something that we aren't. That perhaps an entire life can be poured into teaching them the error of their ways and some will not want to learn." Regis paused. "My opinion as a father is that you cannot. Crowe will take from this what she will, you will perhaps be lucky enough to provide context and guide her a bit, to keep it from festering. What she will need most is your support and your care, not your anger." 

"They're going to get away with it because she warped and we can't show that." He snapped.

"That may be. But we have Crowe, and she is going to be alright." Regis looked at him intently. "I know it rankles your sense of justice. I wish it were not so. But those boys are not going to benefit from this."

"Is that really all we can hope for?" He muttered.

"No. But look forward to blocking them from any job involving the crown in years to come. The council has tied our hands with this. We cannot show them the full tape, so it appears they merely left her. Their explaining that she disappeared doesn't make much sense." Regis shrugged. "We obscure what we can to keep her from being in more danger. And we teach Crowe to be cautious."

He grumbled.

"Go get Crowe and Prompto. Go home. Take time with your children." Regis turned him gently towards the door. "I will handle things here."


	14. Chapter 14

Cor was quiet when he picked her up, quiet even when they stopped to get Prompto and got him buckled into his seat.

She played with Prompto's hands, entertaining her baby brother as they made it through traffic. 

There were people with signs outside the Citadel, which was why they had taken the back way in and out.

She watched them thoughtfully from the other side of the dark glass on Cor's car. She could only hear them as muffled noise through the windows, and Cor was very tense as they moved through.

"Dad?" She said quietly, thinking about what Clarus had said.

He glanced at her in the mirror, then back at the crowd. "Yeah?"

"What are you scared of?" Shs asked in a quiet voice. As far as she could tell Cor wasn't afraid of anything. She had always though that made him super cool.

Cor was quiet fot a long time, finishing threading through the traffic and making his way home. "Failing the people I have promised to protect."

"Like the king?" She chewed on her lip, mulling that over.

"And you, and Prompto, Gladio, Clarus, Laelia, the prince and princess." He explained. 

"That isn't a whole lot of people."

Prompto was trying to chew on her hand. She let him, but was watching his teeth warily.

"No. But I am only one person and yoi are often all in different places." He caught her eye in the mirror.

She looked down again. "D'you protect Mr. Cid?"

"When I can. He is an old friend. We traveled together a long time ago."

She nodded, looking at her hand where it was curled on her lap. "Dad?"

"Mhm?" He was turning the car into their drive, swiping his badge to make the gate open.

"I'm sorry I scared you." She whispered. "I didn't mean to. Everything in Insomnia is so big."

Cor made the car stop and turned to look at her, reaching his big hand to lift her little one. "It is ok to ask for help." He told her gently.

"You don't." She protested.

"I do. I ask Clarus for hell and Regis for advice. Sometimes I even call Mr. Cid or my other friend to ask them what they think. Even Laelia. You can't make it through life on your own."

She nodded, clutching his hand. "Prompto would be really sad if we went away, huh?"

"He sure would. He is too little to understand why someone would leave him. So we have to be very responsible and careful so we don't confuse him." Cor said very seriously.

She nodded. "And even... Gladio would be sad and the prince would be sad. So we should be really careful."

Cor gave her hand a tight squeeze. "You’re right. We can't keep them safe if we're not here."

She nodded, holding her breath so she wouldn't hiccup. "I'll be very careful."

"That is all I ask." Cor smiled at her, giving her hand another squeeze.

 

*~* 

Laelia had dressed Crowe like a little doll for this. It made her look like a different child. He wasn't sure he liked it, and he knew Crowe hated it. If the bow on her dress lasted the first hour he would be shocked.

Nyx had huffed an offended breath as soon as he laid eyes in her and undid her hair to rebraid the back, perching her on his knee as he worked.

Laelia looked only mildly offended. "Did I do it wrong?"

"Braids are specific to region. Crowe is from the cove, and the age marker is important." Nyx explained, sounding a bit disgruntled about having to tell them again.

He found himself watching with Laelia, fascinated.

Crowe looked less tense, eyes half closed as she submitted to Nyx fixing her hair.

"I never would have guessed." He muttered appreciatively. "Thanks for coming with us tonight."

Gladio was squirming in his seat, clearly wanting to get down and see what Nyx was doing.

"It's no problem." Nyx sat Crowe back on her feet, turning her in a little circle to show her off. "I love attending events where people talk about my people and culture."

He snorted. "They mean well."

"Sure." Nyx took Crowe's hand. 

"If they get too preachy, take her and leave. Out the back, preferably. There are protestors out front." He ordered. The boy was doing well in training, and he trusted the kid with his daughter. 

Nyx rolled his eyes. "Yes sir." He offered his other hand to Gladio who scampered forward to take it.

Kid had a soft spot for kids, which was good. Gladio practically lived in Crowe"s shadow.

He offered Laelia his arm. Clarus was already inside with Regis, as was usually the case at these things.

"I wonder if they will serve that salmon dish Regis is so fond of." Laelia murmured by his side as the door opened.

"If they don't he'll sulk. At two thousand Gil a plate they had better." He smiled faintly, still hating the spectacle of things, but accepting Laelia's attempt at small talk.

He wasn't so young anymore that these things made him nervous - even attending them technically "off the clock" with his daughter at his heels.

"How come they're talking about Galahd?" Gladio asked quietly behind them.

"Cause of the war, dummy." Crowe told him, authoritative tone only a little bit off by the clear nerves in her voice.

"I'm not a dummy. You are."

"Children." Nyx rumbled.

Both kids fell immediately silent.

*~* 

She licked the cream off her fingers, watching the adults around the chamber.

This dinner was really boring. She bet that Lib was having more fun with the babies. Had to be better than listening to people that had never been to Galahd talk about it.

The food - which was supposed to be "authentic" - wasn't even that sweet. Cor cooked with more peppers and spices at home.

Nyx had fixed his gaze on a pillar across the room when a woman who had been drinking g too much wine started talking about art and culture and how important it was that they act now to preserve what was left.

She stole the cake off Cor's plate, ignoring the look one of the donors gave her from across the table. Gladio whined, so she split it with him.

Fair was fair.

Nyx seemed faintly amused, refocusing on them briefly.

Cor seemed to be trying to get the center piece to burst into flames without magic.

Yes. Lib had to be having more fun with the babies. He probably even got to hold Stella. She wasn't allowed without an adult and was very unhappy with the injustice. King Regis had promised that when Stella was older she could.

She had made the spell that made Stella well, so she thought that should me that she got to hold the baby whenever.

Adults were weird. 

She finished the second desert. Considered the center piece, found king Regis who had the dreamy look on his face that meant he had stopped paying attention a while ago and sighed deeply, tugging on Nyx's arm. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Nyx gave Cor a questioning look, and her dad nodded to grant permission.

She wiggled out of her chair, taking Nyx's hand and leading him out of the fancy room with a deep sense of relief. 

"Do you actually need to go?" He asked her mildly.

"Uh huh. Better than listening." She led him down the hall to one of the bathrooms. "You gotta wait outside cause you're a boy."

"I know. No climbing out the window. Ok?"

She nodded, slipping into the room to wash her hands and use the potty. It was one of the fancy bathrooms with pictures all over the wall and statues that stared at her while she peed.

She hated fancy bathrooms and she didn't understand them. She finished as quickly as she could, shaking her hands to dry them as she went to join Nyx.

There were other people outside the door with Nyx, one of them speaking lowly to him, hand on his arm.

"I'm done!" She declared loudly, making the men who had been crowded close jump and step back.

She put her hands on her hips, trying to mimic Cor's scowl.

Nyx stepped back, taking her hand in his. "Gentlemen?" There was a question in his voice, something dark and angry that made the air feel bristly.

One of the men looked down at her, a few of them grumbled, but most of them went off down the hall back the way they had come. She looked up at Nyx, who put a finger to his lip and went down the hall away from them, still holding her hand.

She made her feet be quiet, listening hard. The museum wasn't one she had spent a lot of time in, so she wasn't sure where they were going, with the men blocking the room they had been in before.

Nyx found a set of stairs and led her up, into a pitch black gallery with tiny lights that just illuminated the paintings. Nyx led her through to another room, deftly avoiding obstacles until he found a smaller, still empty room with a bench and got out his phone.

"Are you calling dad?" She asked, making the question as quiet as possible.

In the illumination of the phone, she saw him nod. 

"They were like those boys, huh? Cause we're from Galahd?" She asked softly, scuffing her foot on the floor.

"Don't listen." Nyx advised her. "They don't know anything about you. They aren't worth the effort to hear."

She nodded, watching him type on his phone, listening hard in the darkness. "I wish we'd stayed with Lib."

He ruffled her hair fondly, dropping g his arm around her shoulders. "It's going to be fine. You did good."

She nodded, hugging herself a bit. “What were they asking you?”

“Don’t worry about that either. They were drunk, and nothing happened.” He circled his hand against her back. “Your dad will be here soon and we can go back to your house.”

She leaned against Nyx, staring into the dark room, wishing again that she could just stay home. But Cor and King Regis seemed to think that more people needed to see her, even if she didn’t want to be seen at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you did not see was the three hours Lib spent jumping every time Dratous breathed too loud, because Prompto was with the prince and princess and like hell was Cor leaving someone he doesn't even like watching his kid.


	15. Chapter 15

Cor said that life was funny sometimes. She was inclined to agree with him. Sometimes funny meant heart stuck in her throat as she tried to breathe around it, sometimes it meant her eyes burning while she laughed.

Adults had different meanings for 'funny' and she was learning all of them. She had spent half her life in Lucis with her dad, half her life in Galahd with her mom.

Gladio was frowning at her from his branch beneath her.

The blood was all rushy in her brain, a soft whooshing sound that made her feel like she was thinking inside the dryer, clothes tumbling around her. Gladio couldn't hang by his knees like she could - or maybe he could, but it made him scared so he claimed he couldn't.

Nyx could and Nyx was bigger than she was. He might not risk some of the branches that she would. But he could do it. Lib couldn't - or wouldn't. Cor said he could if he wanted to. Clarus had just laughed when she asked him.

"I'm bored." Gladio told her sternly from the branch.

"Then go do your homework. I'm not trapping you up here." She taunted, knowing that she really was because Gladio hated going down without her to spot for him.

She reached up, gripping the branch before she twisted her body and stood lightly on the slightly broader branch beneath.

Gladio sighed at her, looking woefully down until she started to decend to help him down.

She loved the trees in their courtyard. King Regis had play structures put in, but unless the prince and her little brother were with them, she didn't bother with them. Who would want to play on a jungle gym when the trees were right there?

It was really a little private park, tucked in the back of the Citiadel. It was her favorite place.

"Crowe." Her father called from somewhere beneath them.

"Coming! Gotta help Gladio down."

She heard Cor sigh, and some shifting around that meant probably other people were with him. Which meant zero cheating, though Gladio was getting big for cheating down with him. She could still do it with Prom and Noctis and Stella.

She jumped down lightly as Gladio climbed down the past feet, pushing her hair out of her face.

Cor had an amused look on his face, brushing an errant strand back. "Meditating again?"

She nodded. "Thoughts come different when you are upside down!"

Someone chuckled. She glanced past dad to see King Regis standing next to a council member who had a little boy next to him.

sci something. Council member Sice...? No. Scientia. She bowed as gracefully as she could manage to the king. "Good afternoon, King Regis."

He was smiling, eyes sparkling. "Good afternoon, Crowe. I see you are practicing your climbing."

Gladio walked up behind her, brushing leaves and nettles out if his hair. "She doesn't need practice. She can climb better than anyone."

She beamed, pleased by the compliment. 

"Very good. Climbing is a very useful skill to have." King Regis said, winking at her. "I would like to introduce you both to someone." He motioned the boy, who walked a bit uncertianly to his side. "This is Ignis. He will be joining your group."

Gladio made a soft noise beaide her, clearly offended. 

She ignored him, studying the boy intently. He was light skinned and light haired. Like Prompto. Except his eyes were green. "Is he from Nifilheim?"

The boy looked instantly offended. "No. From Tenebrea."

"He is part Lucian like yourself." King Regis informed her mildly, a hint of reproach in his voice. "Councilor Scientia is his uncle."

She felt her cheeks heat at the rebuke. "Sorry. I'm Crowe." She offered her hand like a grown-up would.

The boy stared at her hand for a moment before gingerly taking it and giving a little shake of the offered fingers.

"This is Gladio. I bet you met Clarus already." She explained. "Gladio is Clarus' kid. But he's so shrimpy you'd never guess."

"Hey! I'm getting bigger." Gladio protested.

The boy looked more overwhelmed than amused at her joke. 

She switched tactics. "I'm seven, Gladio is six. How old are you?"

"Six." Ignis said softly. 

"That means I am still the biggest!" She declared, pleased. 

"Ignis will be appointed Noctis's companion and adviser." Regis interjected mildly. 

"For what?" She asked, confused. 

"For life." Ignis told her, sounding just a bit the wrong side of snooty.

"Noctis can't tie his shoes yet." She informed him. Mostly because Prompto could and it was something she held over Gladio. "My brother is his best friend."

"That would be Prompto Leonis." Ignis stated, frowning at her.

"Mostly we just call him Prom." She corrected. "And Noctis goes by Noct sometimes, but not if we are in public. Then he has to be prince Noctis. Stella too. Except she’s a princess."

Ignis nodded, still looking uncertain. Maybe he was like one of those kids who didn’t play with other kids? Some of the councilor’s kids were like that. 

“Can you climb trees?” She asked him generously, looking at Cor. Nobody ever seemed to mind that she taught Gladio to climb, or Noctis and Prompto – even if she was always very careful with them. She didn’t want Prompto to fall, or Noctis most days. Sometimes Noctis could be really cranky. 

Cor had his neutral face on. They must have made up their minds that the kids should decide this. She couldn’t wait to introduce Ignis to Nyx, who was good at shy kids. 

Ignis looked up at his uncle, wide eyed. 

She made up her mind that she was going to teach him how to be a proper child. With skinned knees and everything else. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, giving him a little tug. “Come on. We can start with the easy one!”

King Regis chuckled again as she dragged a softly protesting Ignis in her wake. “I think they children will be fine. We will introduce him to Noctis later.”


	16. Chapter 16

He knew the moment it happened that all of their careful work had been undone. 

Noctis warped, tumbling gleefully across the training yard. Dratous chuckled, stooping to ruffle his hair. “We’ll work on landing later.”

Noctis bounced up, beaming towards the other kids. “Crowe! Look, I did it!” 

Crowe was very still on the sideline, sprawled on the ground. 

“Yes, truly a credit to the Caelum bloodline.” Dratous was saying, as though to twist the knife. 

Gods above.

Crowe lifted her head slowly, eyes looking with his for a moment, confusion and then hurt mixing on her face.

Noctis stopped, staring at Crowe. “Crowe?” Above anyone else, Noctis would want Crowe’s approval.

Above all, Noctis warping ripped apart the careful veil they had threaded around the young Prince. 

Noctis pouted, stepping towards his daughter. 

Crowe’s head snapped down, gaze looking for the prince. 

He threw the force of his prayer behind her next action, begging her to remain cautious until he could talk to her alone. 

“Did you see, Majesty? Wasn’t that well done?” Dratous stepped after the boy, clearly intending to pick him up.

Crowe looked at Dratous, and then at Noctis, and scrambled unsteadily to her feet. 

He didn’t know what he was praying for, but he knew that everything rested on what Crowe did next.

“You need to practice.” Crowe declared, and only the slight tremor to her voice would give away how upset she was. 

“Noct did well.” Regis said softly, looking down at both children. “I look forward to future demonstrations.”

Noctis beamed, swinging towards his father to soak up the approval. 

Crowe looked back up at him, taking one step back, and then another, until she had reached the exit and was gone.

“Majesty.” He whispered. 

“Go. Speak to her. She will want to hear you.” 

He bowed, then turned to rush after the little girl.

Crowe was gone, nowhere to be found, by the time he reached the outer hall. 

 

*~* 

Sometimes watching Noctis train was boring. She already knew how to do everything he did, and everyone always had to baby him and it was silly sometimes. Watching Gladio train was much more interesting. 

Usually. 

Her eyes were burning, and it felt like a sob was caught in her throat as she ran through the Citadel. 

Noctis could warp. She was so stupid. She was so dumb. She should have known before Noctis wrapped himself in the same blue fire she had been warned to hide and cheated his way across the training grounds.

She should have known. 

But she had been so happy to be Cor’s daughter. She had never questioned, not after her initial distrust. She had accepted.

The sob bubbled free of her throat, and she kept running. Running, running as far and fast as she could from the newly revealed lie.


	17. Chapter 17

She stood up on the top of the wall, eyes closed, body rocking softly with the force of the grief that was surging through her. 

Who was she? She had thought she knew. She had been sure she knew. She had liked who she was. She had liked being Cor’s daughter, and Prompto’s sister, and Gladio and Ignis’ friend and the Prince and Princess’ playmate. 

But she couldn’t be that if she wasn’t who she thought she was, could she? She couldn’t…she couldn’t even be Prompto’s sister, could she? 

The teas started again, making the snot ooze up in her nose. She wasn’t Prompto’s sister anymore. She had never been Prompto’s sister. Every time he had called her “sis” had been a lie. A big, fat nasty one that she shouldn’t have let him tell. 

She always told Prompto not to tell lies, she had told him she would never tell lies to him. But she had. She had told a huge lie, and she hadn’t meant to. Not at all. Not even a little bit. But she had. 

She had lied to Prompto. 

She caught the tears and snot with her sleeve, trying not to sob, trying to keep it quiet and inside. She had been good at being quiet, she had been good at holding her tears in. But she had trusted Cor, and Cor had lied to her. Cor had lied to her and she had lied to Prompto. She shouldn’t ever lie to Prompto. 

She loved Prompto. Even if he wasn’t her brother. She had loved him when Cor brought him home, had loved his little hands and the way he giggled when she blew on his tummy. Loved how he had grabbed her hands and chewed on them when he was little. She had walked with him, taught him to walk, watched for him to make sure he didn’t fall. 

She reached for the knife, another present from Cor. Another lie. Because it had been meant for his DAUGHTER and she wasn’t, she wasn’t his, she was the King’s and he had lied too, lied to her, made Cor lie too. 

She stared at the little blade, sniffling and rubbing the back of her face. Everyone from Galahd had braids. Nyx had made hers a part of who she was in Lucis too, the one at the back said who she was. Said who her dad was, said who her mom was.

She hesitated for a moment, then lifted the knife carefully to her head, cutting the strands away until her hair was shorter than Cor’s and the braids were gone.

She was nobody. Nobody’s daughter. Nobody’s daughter from nobody’s people.

Her hands opened and the braids and hair tumbled down, caught by the wind and twisted away.

She ran her fingers over her new head, exploring it with fingertips. It was pointy against them, it was sharp. 

She hated it. 

She hated it more than anything else. She hated the lies she had worn, but she felt so lonely without them, crumbling slowly to the top of the wall with the wind beating against her, screaming through the stones at her feet.

She was alone. She was nothing. Nobody had actually ever wanted her. Cor hadn’t wanted her. The King had just wanted her close enough to see, but ever away from his real children. Her entire place here was an order given and received. Obeyed. 

The sobs that shook through her now were not the quiet sort, they were the hard sort, the ones that got lodged in her throat and felt like they were cutting her apart with every breath. 

She couldn’t rise, she couldn’t be the bird that flew. She felt like a stone was in her tummy, wrapped up in all she had been meant to be. She wasn’t of Galahd, she wasn’t of Lucis, she was just a stone in the waves that everyone else had chosen for her. 

Did Clarus know? Cor told Clarus everything. The king did too. Did Mr. Cid know?

Something caught in her throat, the memory of their first meeting. Mr. Cid had been the only one who hadn’t lied until Cor told him he had to. Mr. Cid had said she wasn’t Cor’s daughter.

She just hadn’t believed him. She had never followed up on all of that, too distracted by being grounded. 

She sniffled and choked on another sob. 

There was a scrape on the stone behind her, just loud enough that she knew it was intentional, and she turned towards it. 

Cor was standing there, looking down at her, pained. Hurting. 

She turned back to her knees, wrapping her arms around them. 

“Sweetheart.” Cor moved to her, settling down next to her, fingers running slowly over the fuzz of her head.

“You lied.” She whimpered.

“I know, kiddo. I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers over her head. “I didn’t…I’m sorry. I really am.” 

“You didn’t ever want me.” 

“No. I didn’t know I wanted you, sweetie. But I did. I’ve never regretted it. I wanted….” Cor sighed, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, holding her tight. He was warm against her, when the wind had started to make her cold. “I know what this started as. I know you’re hurt. I wanted to tell you when you were older, explain everything to you. Not like this.”

She choked on another sob, one that made her chest ache. “What is the truth?”

“That we found out about you right after Noctis was born, that the Queen was worried that because of the gap between your ages it could confuse people about who was the heir.” Cor’s voice was soft. “Your mother sent Regis a letter when she realized she was sick. Regis sent us to get you. On the way back, Clarus told me what Regis wanted me to do.” 

Her heart ached. “Why?”

“Because he wanted you to be safe and loved, but he knew he couldn’t at that moment.” Cor pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I never resented it. I loved you. I don’t think I could have loved you more than I have, Crowe.”

She shook her head. "Everyone told me a lie. A big lie, and I told it to other people.” 

“Crowe, is Prompto my son?” Cor asked. 

“Yeah. Cause you signed a paper. You didn’t sign a paper on me.” She knew how adoption worked. “You told everyone a lie instead.”

Cor blinked, tucking his head against hers. “Alright. Do you want me to sign a paper?” 

It felt like too easy of a solution. Felt like too little of a thing to fix all the hurt in her heart. 

“It’s a start.” She whispered, leaning against him.


End file.
